


Fury

by Lena86



Category: Alien Quadrilogy (Movies), Alien Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien 3 Fix-it, Aliens, F/M, Fix-It, Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena86/pseuds/Lena86
Summary: Surviving LV-426 was only the beginning. Now Ripley, Newt and Hicks have to survive on Fury 161 with a handful of prisoners for company and their ever-present enemy dogging their steps.
Relationships: Dwayne Hicks/Ellen Ripley
Comments: 25
Kudos: 75





	1. Prologue: Can I Dream?

Ripley made her way through the _Sulaco's_ corridors, looking for Hicks. She'd left Newt in the gym, with strict instructions that she was to call before heading anywhere else and now she was curious about the last member of their little gang of survivors. 

The marine had been quiet since the drugs had worn off enough for him to regain consciousness, but then from what she'd seen of him, that wasn't unusual. When his teammates had been mouthing off he'd been mostly silent, watching her during the briefing with unnerving intensity. 

Once Bishop had been powered down to self-repair what he could, Ripley hadn't been keen to go straight back into stasis and Newt had complained about being hungry so the three human survivors had eaten together in the disquieting emptiness of the mess. 

Sometime after Newt's third retelling of Ripley's encounter with the queen alien Hicks had shifted the kid off his lap and onto the bench, murmured something about reporting in and disappeared. 

At first, Ripley had been happy to give him his space, but he'd been gone too long now; the painkillers would wear off entirely and she could only imagine how bad the pain must be for him to have let Bishop knock him out the first time. She suspected she'd have more of a fight on her hands. 

As she reached the comroom his voice drifted out into the corridor, low and gravelly as though with sleep. ‘...all colonial marines dispatched to LV-426 to be KIA. Repeat: all marines dispatched to LV-426 were KIA. _Sulaco_ out.’ Hicks thumbed the button to end the recording and sat back in his chair.

Watching from the doorway, Ripley saw him sigh and scrub his good hand through his already dishevelled hair, pushing himself back further in the seat and resting a booted foot on the console. She heard the click of his lighter and watched the smoke from his cigarette float towards the ceiling before being sucked away into a duct. 

‘Wondered where you had gotten to,’ she said, moving into the comroom. 

‘Where's Newt?' he asked, seemingly ignoring her comment. 

'Discovering the joys of bath time.' He looked up at her, a question in his visible eye. 'We found the therapy tub.' 

He nodded and turned his attention to the controls in front of him, tapping out a few commands to send his message on its way. 

Ripley turned and leaned against the console, sweeping her eyes over him. He was still wearing the remnants of his ruined BDUs and the bandages Bishop had wrapped him in were starting to show spots of blood across his chest. He should really be in a cryotube already if he was going to heal properly. 

'How's the pain?'

'It's not bad.'

She managed not to roll her eyes through sheer force of will. 'Hicks -'

'I'll live,' he said, stubbing out his cigarette. 

'So what now?' she asked, abandoning that line of conversation for now. 

He gave a one-shoulder shrug. 'We hit the freezers, the _Sulaco_ takes us back to HQ. You go home, I guess.'

Shutting down the thought that she hadn't had a home in almost sixty years she focused on the unspoken part of his outline of the future. 'And what happens to you?'

'That'll be up to the brass, ' he said, his jaw clenching. 'Most likely I'll be re-assed to another unit, depending on…' he trailed off, waving a hand at his eye. 

'So soon?'

He looked up at her from under his eyelashes, green eye flashing _something_ before he looked down and away again. 

'What?' she asked when it became apparent he wasn't going to speak.

'I never thanked you, ' he said. 

'For what?'

'Getting us out of there.'

'That's ok,' she smiled. 'I never thanked you either.' When he didn't return her smile she sighed. 'Look, Dwayne, it know it's a lot to process but it's over. We won.'

He stood, wincing slightly as the bandage on his chest pulled at his skin. She watched him curiously as he moved towards her, coming to a stop so close to her that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, despite her height. 

'We won?' he asked softly. 

'We did.'

Hicks raised his right hand to her face, running calloused fingers down her cheek. 'Didn't feel like winning.'

'I know,' Ripley said, her voice just as soft. She slid her hand up his chest and around his neck, fingers playing in his hair. 'But we're alive. You, me and Newt. We're alive.' When he didn't look convinced she pulled gently, tugging his mouth down toward hers.

Suddenly he seemed to be everywhere, pressing her back into the console even as he looped his good arm around her, holding her in place against him as her tongue swept into his mouth. 

He'd cleaned his teeth, she could tell, but his hair was still thick with smoke and sweat, dirty blond strands catching at her fingers as she threaded them through it. Under the toothpaste and cigarettes, she could taste the coffee he'd drunk in the mess and something else. A too-sweet metallic taste that made her grab at him, drawing him closer until they almost overbalanced. 

Instinctively he reached out his left hand to catch himself - to catch them both - hissing when pain shot through him. Hicks stepped back slightly, the dazed expression in his eyes making her smile even as she watched it clear. 

'Guess I'm a bit delicate,' he said quietly, the eye she could see dancing with amusement. 

She tilted her head to the side. 'I'll be gentle.'

'Ripley?' The disembodied voice came from the comm speaker, making Ripley jump and effectively shattering the moment. 

Hicks smirked at her and reached behind her, thumbing the switch and nodding for her to talk.

'I'm here, Newt.' 

'Can you come get me? I'm bored.' 

'Affirmative,' Hicks said, grinning when Newt's laughter fed back through the speaker. 

Ripley pushed away from the console and went to move past him but he took her wrist gently, stalling her. 'We're not done here, Ellen.'

She looked over at him, sweeping her gaze up and down him appreciatively. 'No, ' she said, keeping her voice just as low. 'We're not.'

*

In the end, the shower had pushed him too far and the pain had gotten the better of him. Newt had watched closely as she slathered him in burn gel and redressed the wounds. Finally, Ripley had given him another shot before helping him into his cryotube, raising an eyebrow at him in amusement at his annoyed look. 

'See you on the other side,' Hicks murmured, drowsiness slurring his words. She brushed her thumb over the back of his hand but he was already asleep, his face relaxed. 

Newt watched as Ripley closed Bishop and Hicks' pods before allowing Ripley to lead her to her own. 

'Are we gonna sleep all the way home?'

'All the way,' Ripley confirmed. 

'Can I dream?'

Ripley smiled, brushing the girl's newly clean hair back. 'Yes, honey, I think we both can.'

*

 _The_ Sulaco _drifted through space, the much-reduced crew sleeping deep within. Unbeknownst to the passengers, an alarm split the silence, followed by the_ Sulaco's _voice._ _‘Stasis interrupted. Fire in cryogenic compartment. Repeat: Fire in cryogenic compartment. All personnel report to emergency escape vehicles.’_


	2. 161

Cold. He was cold. Waking from hypersleep was always signalled by a drop in temperature but not like this. The cold was harsher than climacontrol would allow, seeping into his bones in an unfamiliar way as his other senses started to kick back in. He could hear… water?

Hicks opened his good eye to almost complete darkness. His sense of balance told him his cryotube was on its side, the gravity must be malfunctioning. Not malfunctioning, he corrected. The gravity was all wrong. Instead of the 0.95G his body was expecting, he was pulling more than Earth-normal, which meant one thing: planetside. 

He sat up, straining to see in the half-light afforded by the emergency strip lighting of the EEV. The light bounced around eerily and it took him a moment to work out why: the compartment was flooded. The EEV seemed to be on its side in deep, dark water, the way the craft was moving making him think of an ocean he’d seen once, the way the water had moved. Above his head, the outline of the emergency exit hatch flashed dimly.

Hicks cast his eye around the compartment, relieved when he saw it looked like all four cryotubes had made the trip intact. A surge of water hit the side of the EEV, drawing his attention. He sucked in a breath as he saw Newt’s cryotube was about to go under. 

Ignoring the protest from his still-healing acid burns, Hicks heaved himself out of his tube, wading through waist-high water and hitting the emergency release on the girl’s tube. He dragged Newt out of the water and over his shoulder and shot a helpless look across the flooded EEV. Ripley's tube had come loose from its mooring and was floating, keeping her out of the water for the time being. He made to move towards her but the EEV lurched again and he had to fight to keep Newt out of the water.

He made his decision quickly, holding the kid in his good arm and yanking a locker open with his left hand, biting back the resulting wave of pain. He grabbed the contents of the locker and jumped to hit the door release, resolving to come back for Ripley when he’d gotten the girl to safety. 

*

The dream was familiar. It should be, it had been her constant companion since she’d awoken from her extended hypersleep aboard the _Narcissus_ but it was no less terrifying for that. It always started the same way, the tightness in her chest that felt like a weight until she realised the pressure was _inside_ , seemingly desperate to find a way out.

But this time was different, this time she wasn't alone. The _Narcissus_ was replaced with the _Sulaco's_ cryo compartment and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Newt sleeping in the cryotube next to her. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. The alien would rip its way out of her and kill Newt as she slept and there was nothing she could do. 

As the pressure in her chest intensified she sensed movement to her side; Hicks’ cryotube was opening. She turned, wanting to call out to the marine, have him fulfil his promise, but her lungs didn’t seem to want to fill. 

Ripley woke, gasping for air and sensing someone nearby. She reached out and gripped the man’s wrist, stilling his motion. As her vision cleared she saw he was holding a hypodermic. ‘What is that?’

The man raised an eyebrow, regarding her coolly. ‘My own cocktail. Sort of an eye-opener.’ When she didn’t release his wrist he glanced pointedly at her hand. 'Relax, Lieutenant, you're safe. I’m Clemens, the medical officer here.' 

‘Here?’

‘Fury 161. One of Weyland-Yutani's backwater work prisons.’

‘We were way off course. What happened?’

‘You crashed in an EEV. Must have separated from your mothership before you hit our atmosphere.’

Ripley glanced around the infirmary, finding it empty. ‘Where are the others?’

‘Others?’

‘I was travelling with a marine, a little girl.’ Ripley said, sitting up and feeling nausea wash over her.

‘You were the only one in the EEV,’ Clemens said, watching her carefully. ‘There were no others. Just a synthetic, ripped in half.’ 

‘No,’ Ripley whispered hoarsely. ‘That can’t be right.’

Clemens’ expression was contrite. ‘I don’t know what to tell you, Lieutenant Ripley. There was no one else with you.’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘It's stencilled in the back of your shorts,’ he supplied, apparently relieved she’d stopped asking about her friends. ‘You'll want to shave. Lice,’ he clarified. ‘Do you mind?’ he gestured with the hypodermic. 

She nodded and he injected her. As the drugs swam into her system her mind cleared slightly. ‘I need to see the ship.’

‘You'll have to speak to the warden,’ Clemens said, snapping his gloves off and turning away.

Ripley swung her legs over the edge of the bed, glancing down at herself as the cold air hit her skin. ‘You wanna get me some clothes, or shall I just go like this?’ she gestured down at her naked body.

Clemens raised an eyebrow. ‘Given the nature of our indigenous population I'd suggest clothes,’ he said firmly, turning away and opening a locker. ‘None of them have even seen a woman for years. Neither have I for that matter,’ he added, handing her a stack of clothes. 

He drew the curtain around her bed, giving her some privacy. Struck by another wave of nausea, Ripley leaned against the bed, staring with unseeing eyes at the clothes. Hicks and Newt couldn’t just be gone. If she and Bishop had made the trip down, it stood to reason that all four cryotubes had been in the EEV. Could they have been missed by the rescue team? 

Hicks was the ranking - and only - marine on board, maybe the ship had woken him when the emergency protocols were initiated. Maybe he'd gotten out and gone to get help when the EEV crashed.

Feeling slightly more hopeful, she began to pull the oversized clothes on, determined she’d get answers out of the warden.

*

The warden, Andrews, was less than helpful. It seemed no one had been able to access the flight recorder and they'd left the ruined EEV on the shore where it had washed up, abandoning it to the elements. Bishop had been thrown on the scrapheap, having proven incompatible with the facility's decrepit systems. 

Clemens had brought her to the warden’s office and been summarily dismissed, dispatched back to the infirmary with barely a glance from his superior. 

‘We've sent a message to the company, notifying them of your presence here. They’ll send someone for you soon.’

‘When’s soon?’ Ripley asked

‘We don’t know,’ Andrews said tersely. 

‘No one’s ever been in a rush to get here before,’ Aaron, the warden’s second in command, added. 

Ripley nodded. ‘Good.’

‘ _Not_ good,’ Andrews snapped. ‘We have twenty-five prisoners in this facility. All double-Y chromos, all thieves, rapists, murderers, forgers, child molesters... all scum. But scum that have taken on religion. I, for one, don't think that makes them any less dangerous. So I try not to offend their convictions. I don't want to disturb the order. I don't want ripples in the water. And I don't want a woman walking around giving them ideas.’

‘I don’t intend to give them ideas.’

‘I need you to stay out of sight,’ Andrews said, glancing down at his paperwork. ‘Wey-Yu will pick you up and we can all forget this ever happened.’

‘I don't care what you need,’ Ripley said, leaning down on his desk. ‘ _I_ need time to find my friends.’

Andrews glared up at her. ‘Your friends, Lieutenant, are at the bottom of the sea. If they were ever on the EEV to start with. For the remainder of your stay with us, you will be quarantined in the infirmary under the care of Clemens.’ He looked down at his paperwork, effectively dismissing her. 

When Ripley made no move to leave he glanced up at her questioningly. 

‘Let me go look at the ship.’

‘It would appear you're unclear on the meaning of the word _quarantine_ , Lieutenant. You will not be going to the ship, or anywhere else for that matter. Mr Aaron, please escort Lieutenant Ripley back to the infirmary.’

*

Aaron deposited Ripley just inside the infirmary and sped away, clearly not wanting to spend any more time around her than was strictly necessary. Inside, she found Clemens sorting through a medicine cabinet. 

‘Were you there?’ she said, startling him. 

He glanced over his shoulder at her before going back to his work. ‘Excuse me?’

‘When they took me out of the EEV, were you there?’

‘As a matter of fact, I was.’

Ripley felt her heart lift slightly. ‘The cryotubes. Were they open?’

Clemens turned to face her, eyebrow raised. ‘What does it matter?’

‘Were they?’ she demanded, laying a hand on his arm.

He glanced down at it before meeting her gaze again. ‘I honestly don't remember. We were more focused on recovering you.’ 

She nodded, withdrawing her hand. ‘I need to see it.’ 

Clemens shook his head. ‘I'm sorry, it’s just not possible. We left it outside.’

‘Andrews told me.’ When he looked as though he were about to object, she went on quickly, ‘I wasn't alone. I need to find my friends and find out what happened.’ 

He regarded her seriously for a moment, pursing his lips slightly. 

Ripley shook her head. ‘Look, I don't need your-’

‘Go while they're at lunch,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘It's the only time you'll have a clear run at it. I can get you to the door but after that, I'm afraid you're on your own.’ 

Ripley smiled gratefully. ‘I can handle myself.’

Clemens looked unsure. ‘If you encounter one of the inmates…’

‘I understand the risks.’

*

The EEV was a wreck, even from the outside. Ripley stared at it, wondering how anyone could possibly have survived that. Her stomach turned over at the thought of Newt waking up during the crash, scared and alone in the dark. She pressed forward, fighting the wind all the way to the hatch before ducking inside. 

She panned her flashlight around the compartment, counting one, then two, then all four cryotubes and sighing her relief out on a breath. As she made her way across the compartment, she saw one of the tubes had been run through with a support beam, the metal pinning it to the deck. 

The disarray caused by the crash made it hard to get oriented. Whose cryotube was this? Ripley rested a hand on the tube, sucking in a breath that was almost a sob and struggling to see through the crazed glass, desperately trying to see whether the pad around the support beam was clean. 

A noise behind her made her spin, raising the flashlight in self-defence and sending the beam dancing crazily over the walls. 

‘Hey!’ the intruder raised his hands, showing they were empty. His face was wrapped in what looked like a scarf but his voice was clear. 

Ripley lowered the flashlight, training it on his face. ‘Hicks?’ The marine nodded, raising a hand and dragging the material downwards, revealing his still-bandaged face, his good eye squinting against the light. ‘The _Sulaco_ brought you out early.’

‘Yeah,’ he aimed a kick at the damaged cryotube. ‘Lucky for me.’

‘It’s yours,’ Ripley realised. 

‘Must have happened when it washed ashore.’ Hicks looked at her appraisingly for a moment before nodding at her as though impressed. ‘Kid was right. You always survive.’ 

At the mention of Newt, Ripley felt a smile break over her face. ‘Newt? Newt’s with you?’

Hicks nodded at a tube laying on its side behind her. ‘Kid’s freezer was flooded. I had to get her out of here before she drowned. I came back for you but the EEV was gone. I thought…’ he stopped, moving forwards and resting his hands on her shoulders, gripping her tightly as though to assure himself she was really there. ‘Where are we?’

‘Fury 161. It's a work prison.’

Hicks rolled his eyes. ‘Great.’

‘Why didn't you come to the facility?’

He dropped his hands to his sides, making her miss the warmth. ‘Didn't know it was there. Had to wait a few hours for Newt to wake up enough for me to do some recon. Early ejection from cryo messed with her system,’ he added, off her concerned look. ‘And... You see this?’ He nodded at a patch of discoloured plastic on Newt's cryotube. 

When Ripley ran her hand over it it was rough, burned away. ‘One of them came with us?’

Hicks gave a one-shoulder shrug. ‘I don’t know, I wanted to keep an eye on the kid. That's her tube.’ 

Ripley sucked in a breath. ‘You thought she might have been…’

‘I didn't want you to have to see it,’ he murmured. ‘If she was.’ 

Hicks’ voice echoed in her head, _If it comes to that, I'll do us both._ She met his gaze, his good eye holding hers steadily, remembering the same conversation. ‘But she’s not?’

‘Seems not.’ 

‘Where is she?’

Hicks jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘We found some caves. Newt asked me to find the EEV.’

‘You thought I’d be back,’ Ripley said, smiling despite herself. 

He shrugged, glancing away. ‘Kid did. Me? Not so much.’

Ripley waited until he met her eyes again, seeing the worry in his gaze, the guilt. He’d thought he’d abandoned her to drown. Ripley reached up and rested her hand against his cheek. ‘You should have more faith, Corporal.’ 

Hicks grinned, the first time he’d smiled since they’d landed here. ‘Yes, ma'am.’ 

  
  
  



	3. All the Way

After Hicks disconnected the flight recorder they made their way over rough terrain, heading away from the prison and along what could only loosely be called the coast. Ripley watched Hicks as they walked, his movement was freer now, his left arm still stiff but moving more than it had been when they’d been aboard the _Sulaco_. The wind was too loud in her ears, making conversation impossible and turning the rain into what felt like glass against her skin. She turned her collar up, huddling down into her jacket and wishing it were warmer.

Up ahead, Hicks switched direction, heading inland and making quick work of the rocky terrain before turning and watching as Ripley made her way towards him. 

Her borrowed boots skidded against the slippery surface of a rock and she glared at him. ‘You gonna offer to help or just watch?’ she said, straining to be heard over the wind.

‘Thought you had it handled pretty well,’ he called back, reaching out a hand to her. 

Ripley forbore to comment, taking his hand and letting him help her over the rocks. Truth be told she was starting to feel nauseous again, Clemens’ cocktail must be wearing off. 

At the sound of her name, she dropped Hicks’ hand, earning herself a smirk from the marine which she duly ignored. Newt bounded over the rocks towards them, skidding to a stop just in front of Ripley and all but jumping into her arms. 

‘Told you she’d be okay,’ Newt said, shooting Hicks a triumphant look over Ripley’s shoulder. 

‘And I told _you_ to stay outta sight,’ he shot back, reaching over and ruffling Newt’s hair. 

Ripley knelt, holding Newt back by her shoulders so she could take a good look at the girl. She was swamped by an adult-sized coat that matched Hicks’, the sleeves rolled back and still falling over her hands. Ripley rolled them back again and pulled the hood up over Newt’s head. ‘We should get back,’ she said, glancing up at Hicks. He nodded and left her side, disappearing into a depression in the rock. 

‘Where are we going?’ Newt asked, turning a solemn face up to Ripley. 

Hicks returned, holding a camo-patterned pack. ‘Survival kit,’ he grunted, hefting it onto his shoulder. 

‘Ripley…’ 

Ripley returned her attention to Newt. ‘There’s a prison on this planet. We’re gonna wait there to be rescued.’

‘Is it safe?’ Newt asked.

‘Yes,’ Ripley said, just as Hicks said, ‘No.’ She glared up at him and he gave her a one-shoulder shrug, seemingly unapologetic. He was right, she realised, there was no sense lying to Newt, the kid was too smart for it. ‘No, Newt. It’s not safe. They’re prisoners, very bad men. But you’ll be safe with Hicks and me.

Newt smiled a little warily and Ripley stood, fighting back a wave of nausea as Newt took her hand. 

*

It had taken them a little over fifty minutes to hike back, Hicks falling back naturally to flank Ripley and Newt, scanning the landscape while Ripley concentrated on their destination. 

As the prison complex loomed, Hicks paused. ‘I’m not sure this is the right play.’

Ripley glanced over at him but didn’t pause in her stride, Newt walking quietly at her side. ‘Ripley,’ Hicks said, grabbing her arm. ‘I don’t think we should take Newt in there. I know about places like this, they ain't exactly kid-friendly.’

‘Newt’s not a regular kid,’ Ripley said. 

‘S’right,’ Newt said, beaming up at Ripley. 

Ripley returned her smile before looking back at Hicks. ‘Better in here than out there’ she said. ‘Besides, they have a medical officer and you need to get checked out.’ She met his gaze, seeing the worry in his eyes. ‘Listen, if you have a better option…’ she let the sentence trail, nodding when Hicks didn’t respond. ‘Let’s go.’

They entered the complex via a side door in the main building. Finding the corridor blessedly free of any inmates, Ripley led them in the direction of the infirmary, pausing and holding out a hand to stop the others when she heard footsteps up ahead. 

Andrews stepped into the hallway just ahead of Aaron and Clemens. ‘Glad you’ve decided to rejoin us, Lieutenant, ' he said, sounding anything but. His gaze flicked over Hicks and Newt before returning to Ripley. 'And you’ve brought friends, I see.’ 

Ripley felt Hicks come to a stop just behind her, close enough that the fabric of his coat brushed her jacket. ‘Superintendent Andrews,’ she said, nodding in greeting. ‘Rebecca Jorden, Corporal Hicks.’

‘Corporal…’ Aaron said, almost sounding impressed. Andrews spared him a glare. 

‘Yessir,’ Hicks said. ‘USCM.’

‘This is not a guest house, Lieutenant Ripley, we’re not in the business of taking in waifs and strays.’

‘They’re hardly a horde,’ Clemens observed dryly. ‘We’ll cope until their rescue arrives.’

Andrews pursed his lips. ‘When I want your opinion, Mr Clemens, I’ll ask for it.’ He switched his attention to Ripley. ‘You were confined to the infirmary,’ he snapped. ‘And how is it you still haven’t shaved your head?’

‘Shaved?’ Hicks murmured. 

‘Lice,’ Ripley replied.

‘Gets better and better.’

‘I leave them to your care, Mr Clemens,’ Andrews said, turning to leave. ‘I don’t expect to see them anywhere but the infirmary from now on.’

‘Andrews,’ Hicks called, stepping out from behind Ripley. ‘Where’s your transmitter? I need to report in.’

‘I will alert the company to your presence here,’ Andrews said, hearing the order despite Hicks’ mild tone and clearly not liking it. When Hicks merely continued to hold his eyes Andrews sighed. ‘You can send a message once Mr Clemens has checked you over.’ He turned on his heel and stalked down the corridor, Aaron in tow.

Clemens smiled, almost apologetic. 'This way.’

*

Ripley and Newt took the showers first. Ripley carefully shaved Newt’s head and grinned when she caught Newt pulling a face at her new haircut in the mirror. 

‘You’re still pretty,’ she said, turning the girl towards the showers and turning on the spray while she attended to her own hair. 

Newt finished first, dressing quickly and leaving Ripley to finish her shower. When she re-entered the infirmary Newt was sitting on one of the beds, a tray of food in her lap which she was eating with every sign of enjoyment. 

Hicks grinned when he saw the direction of Ripley’s gaze. ‘Kid’s acting like I never fed her. Nice haircut,’ he added, handing her a tray.

‘I don’t like those bars,’ Newt said, her mouth full. 

‘We should find Bishop,’ Ripley said, picking at her food. 

Hicks glanced up from his contemplation of his own tray. ‘Why?’

‘I want to access the _Sulaco’s_ log, see what brought us down.’

Hicks held her gaze a moment. ‘What are you thinking?’

She shrugged, cutting her eye at Newt, still eating happily. 

The door to the infirmary opened and Clemens walked in. He glanced at Ripley and Newt and nodded approvingly. ‘Good. I'll have a look under those bandages and then it’ll be your turn, Corporal.’

‘I’d like to see Bishop,’ Ripley said. 

Clemens looked surprised. ‘The synthetic is defunct, destroyed in the crash.’ 

‘We need him to access our flight log,’ Hicks said, his voice low but firm. ‘’sides, he’s USCM property. Brass won’t be happy Andrews junked him, whatever condition he’s in.’

Clemens nodded, then looked at Ripley. ‘There’s no point in telling you not to go looking for him, I suppose?’

‘No,’ Ripley said.

‘I’ll go,’ Hicks said. When Ripley shot him a look he shrugged. ‘You shouldn’t be walking around.’

Ripley shook her head. ‘You need to get checked out.’

‘So wait until I’m done.’

‘I can handle it, Hicks.’

He returned her stare with a cool one of his own. She thought he was going to argue but he simply held up his hands. 'Sure, _Lieutenant.'_

Clemens sighed, resigned. ‘I’ll point you in the proper direction. I’m afraid I can't join you. I have an appointment with the Superintendent.’

*

The trash heap was huge, a pit just outside the main building that seemed to contain everything imaginable, except - at first glance - Bishop. Ripley swung the bag she’d brought over her shoulder and started to dig through the pile. 

Eventually, she spotted a hand sticking out of what appeared to be a pile of wiring. As she stared, the pile resolved itself into Bishop’s destroyed midsection. She reached up and started carefully tugging at the debris around the synthetic, trying not to lose any of him as she dug him out. 

Once he was free she gently placed him in the bag, wondering at herself even as she did it. He looked horrific, in addition to being torn in half he’d lost half his face and the flesh of one arm was completely stripped away. Looking at him, it was hard to believe she, Newt and Hicks had made it out of the EEV relatively unscathed. 

As she made her way back to the building three prisoners appeared in front of her. Ripley bent and picked up a pipe, holding it aloft so they could see. ‘I don’t want any trouble.’

An unseen hand snatched the pipe from her and she spun. The guy behind her was huge, towering over her in a way most men didn’t. He grabbed her hands, making her drop Bishop, and pushed her towards a pipe, pressing her down onto it. She tried to kick out at him but he pressed his knees into the back of her legs, holding her still. 

Behind her, she heard a metallic clang and one of the prisoners cried out, she turned her head, craning to see over her shoulder as the pressure behind her disappeared. A large black man was holding three of the inmates at bay with an iron bar while the giant sprawled on the ground, holding his head protectively. 

‘What’s your fucking problem, Dillon?’ one of the prisoners asked. 

Dillon advanced on him, holding the iron bar like a baseball bat. He glanced over his shoulder at Ripley. ‘Take off. I've gotta re-educate some of the brothers. We're gonna discuss some matters of the spirit.’

Ripley got to her feet and dragged the bag containing Bishop over her shoulder. As she passed one of the prisoners she drew back and punched him, feeling her knuckles crunch.

*

When Ripley reached the infirmary Newt was asleep on one of the beds and Clemens was gathering up bloodied bandages. She unslung Bishop, depositing him on one of the empty beds beside Newt. 

‘I see you were successful,’ Clemens observed. 

‘Yeah. Where’s Hicks?’

‘Showering. What happened to your hand?’

Ripley glanced at her hand, it was already beginning to swell. ‘Nothing.’

Clemens narrowed his eyes but wisely said nothing. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Superintendent. I’m going to lock the door behind me. Save you any unwanted visitors.’

Ripley nodded and went to Newt’s side, pulling the blanket up to cover the girl’s shoulders. Newt mewled softly in her sleep and curled up. Ripley laid a hand on Newt’s newly shorn head until the girl quieted again, then moved to the other bed, sliding Bishop out of the bag and starting to wire him up. 

When she was ready to switch him on she glanced over her shoulder. Hicks still wasn’t back from the shower and he’d want to hear this. Ripley rose, dropping the tools she’d been using to the bed beside Bishop and wiping her hands on her pants. 

The shower wasn’t running so she called out to Hicks. When he didn’t answer she edged into the room, finding him at the far end, leaning against the wall. He'd shaved his head and was partway through dressing, his feet shoved into unlaced boots and his pants on but undone, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance. The wound on his chest had been redressed in a tight band around his midsection. His arm was dressed lightly and she was glad to see his eye was uncovered, the scars on his face barely showing up in the dim light of the room.

As she watched he lit a cigarette, taking a drag and blowing smoke towards the ceiling. 

‘Newt asleep? ’he asked, making her jump. As she moved closer he held out the cigarette to her. 

‘This was in the survival kit?’ she asked, taking it. 

Hicks shook his head. ‘Clemens. He said I looked like I needed it. You find Bishop?’ 

Ripley put the cigarette to her lips, inhaling gratefully. ‘He’s in there. You okay?’

Hicks nodded, pushing away from the wall and pulling a shirt over his head, grunting softly as he raised his left arm above his head. He tucked the shirt in and zipped his pants up, sliding his arms into a Wey-Yu jacket that matched the one Ripley had been given. He looked down at his bootlaces, clearly contemplating the pain it would cause to bend and lace them. 

‘Here,’ Ripley said softly, handing him back the cigarette. She knelt in front of him and laced his boots, feeling his eyes on her. When she stood, she realised she was suddenly very close to him. 

He looked different - strange. She’d spent so much time with him in body armour that it still had the shock of the unfamiliar to see him in anything else, much less in civvies. His shaven head made his green eyes stand out, long eyelashes stark against the pallor of his skin. He looked vulnerable in a way he hadn’t even back on the _Sulaco_ in his ruined fatigues. She wondered briefly what he saw when he looked at her now.

‘Your eye made it,’ she said. She tilted her head, remembering what she’d said to Newt earlier.  'You're still pretty.' He looked away, laughing softly and she smiled, glad she could make him laugh. She’d been worried when she saw him in here. Remembering the months after she'd awoken, her crew killed by the alien, her life taken by hypersleep, her daughter gone. Hicks hadn't had time to process the loss of his unit, his friends. Besides the few moments he'd had in the comroom on the _Sulaco,_ this was the first time he'd had to think about it. She wondered if she should leave him to it. 

Abruptly he turned his eyes back on her, studying her intently. She straightened, meeting his gaze head-on as she felt the atmosphere shift, the room suddenly shrinking. His hand reached for hers, jarring her bruised knuckles and she sucked in a breath at the pain. 

Hicks held her hand up so he could examine it. 'What happened?'

'Bumped into some of the locals.'

He tensed, the moment gone for good now. 'Knew I shoulda gone.'

'I'm fine, ' she said firmly. 'Nothing hurt but my feelings and my hand. One of the prisoners stepped in. Dillon.'

'He's their leader, ' Hicks said, his eyes still studying her hand. 'Some kinda preacher type.' 

'A preacher?'

'And a con. Doctor said he's ‘bout the only one who can control them.'

'Seemed that way.' 

He was holding her hand in both of his now, calloused thumbs stroking gently over her knuckles. ‘So which of us is gonna say it?’ he asked. 

Ripley looked up from their joined hands, trying to work out what exactly he was talking about. ‘Say what?’

‘What we’re both thinkin’,’ he said. ‘The reason you wanna access the _Sulaco’s_ log so bad.’

‘Right,’ she said, withdrawing her hand from his. 

‘You think we brought one of those bastards with us.’

‘So do you.’

Hicks tilted his head to the side as though considering. 'We should go see what Bishop can tell us.'

*

The infirmary was still devoid of anyone but Newt’s sleeping form when they approached the bed holding the synthetic. Hicks drew a stool over to the bed and pushed it towards Ripley, taking a step back so she had a clear space to work. 

‘I almost had him ready to go before I came to find you,’ she said, sitting and picking up the soldering iron, making the final connection to the battery that would hopefully bring the android back online. 

Bishop’s remaining eyelid fluttered open, his eye spinning wildly for a moment before focusing on Ripley. ‘Ripley. I like your new haircut.’ His voice unit was slightly off, taking away some of the calming inflexion he normally carried.

Ripley gave a snort of laughter. ‘Hello, Bishop. How are you feeling?’

‘My legs hurt.’

Ripley grimaced, glancing up at Hicks. ‘I'm sorry.’

‘It’s ok, I’m just a glorified toaster.’ Bishop’s eye focused on Hicks. ‘Glad you made it, Corporal.’

‘We all made out okay,’ Hicks said softly. He glanced down at Bishop’s prone form. ‘You… not so much.’

‘Did you wake me up to insult me?’ Bishop asked, his mouth twisted into what was clearly meant as a grin.

Hicks returned it with a softer half-smile of his own. ‘We need to know how we ended up here, Bishop.’

Ripley leaned forward. ‘Can you access the data on the flight recorder?

‘No problem,’ Bishop said. ‘Patch me in.’

Hicks heaved the flight recorder out of his pack and handed it to Ripley, watching as she hooked Bishop up to it. 

After a few moments, the synthetic blinked rapidly. ‘I'm home.’

‘What happened on the _Sulaco_?’ Ripley asked. ‘Why were the cryotubes ejected?’

Bishop closed his eye and when he next spoke it was the voice of the _Sulaco’s_ onboard computer that came out of his mouth. ‘Fire in cryogenic compartment. Repeat. Fire in cryogenic compartment. All personnel report to -’

‘What started the fire, Bishop?’ Ripley interrupted.

Bishop opened his eye, still focusing on some inward point. ‘The fire was electrical,’ he said, using his own voice again. ‘It was in the subflooring.’

‘Did sensors detect any moving life forms on the ship before the evac?’ Hicks asked. 

‘It's very dark here, Corporal,’ Bishop said apologetically. ‘I'm not what I used to be.’

‘Just tell us - does the recorder indicate anything?’ Ripley asked. She leaned forward again, her gaze intent on Bishop. ‘Was there an Alien on board?’

The synthetic was silent for what felt like a long time, the only sound his exposed systems working to keep his dynamic movement working. When he finally spoke the word came out on what would have been a sigh, had he been human. ‘Yes.’

Hicks dropped his head back, bringing his hands up to rub his face. 

‘Does the company know?’ Ripley asked, fighting to ignore the icy sensation in the pit of her stomach. 

It was Hicks who answered. ‘They know everything that happened on the ship. It all goes into the computer and gets sent back to the network. Means my guys _and_ your guys know _exactly_ what happened. No wonder they’re in a rush to pick us up.’

‘I’m sorry I don’t have better news,’ Bishop said, some semblance of his dry sense of humour asserting itself despite his damaged voice unit.

‘We get outta here they can wire you up again,’ Hicks said. ‘Good as new.’

‘No,’ Bishop said. ‘I'm tired. Do me a favour. Just disconnect. I can be re-worked but I’ll never be top of the line again. I’d rather be nothing.’

Ripley shared a look with Hicks. ‘You're sure?’

‘Do it for me, Ripley.’

‘Alright. One last question,’ Ripley said. ‘Is it still on the _Sulaco_ or did it come with us on the EEV?’ 

Bishop paused a moment before answering. ‘It was with us all the way.’


	4. Dragon

Ripley drew a sheet up over Bishop, switching off the bedside lamp and drawing the curtain around the bed. When she turned she found Hicks pacing the infirmary, his hands on his hips and tension rolling off him in waves. Ripley could feel her own corresponding tension arcing through her own spine, warring for dominance with her exhaustion. 

‘We need to do something,’ she said. When he didn’t react she tried again. ‘Hicks.’

‘What?’ he said, pausing in his stride to glance at her.

‘We need to figure out what to do.’

‘We got no idea where it is, no weapons, no backup. What _can_ we do?’

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted, reaching over and smoothing the coverlet over Newt. ‘Something.’

She looked up at him, crossing her arms in an attempt to ward off the chill of the infirmary as she leaned back against the wall. He was more agitated than she’d ever seen him, his usually calm features creased with worry as his gaze lingered on Newt. 

‘Hicks -’ 

‘Where was it?’ he demanded, turning and resuming his pacing. ‘When I came out of cryo it wasn’t in the EEV.’

‘I don’t know,’ Ripley said. ‘Maybe it got out before you woke up. Maybe it got knocked out.’

‘Is that even possible?’ Hicks sighed and stopped pacing, lacing his fingers behind his head. ‘We need to get outta here.’ 

Ripley shook her head tiredly. ‘Where would we go? Back to that cave? I need to talk to Andrews.’

Hicks snorted derisively. ‘That guy? Doesn’t seem like he’s gonna want to help us.’

‘So what? We do nothing?’ she snapped. Her lungs tightened painfully, sending her into a coughing fit, the nausea she’d been fighting all day threatening to resurface.

Hicks stepped into her space, looking at her as though seeing her for the first time since she’d shut Bishop down. ‘You alright?’ He handed her a glass of water from the stand beside Newt’s bed. 

Ripley took it, sipping gratefully and waiting for the water to calm her throat. ‘I’m not gonna sit around here waiting for it to come find us, Hicks.’ 

Hicks smiled. ‘Hell, no. But its the middle of the night and Andrews ain't exactly in love with us. We’ll talk to him in the morning.’ He squeezed her arm gently. 'You need sleep, Ellen.’

Ripley looked up at him, tilting her head to the side. He held her gaze, the startling intensity in his eyes reminding her of the way he’d looked at her when she’d first met him. She remembered catching his eyes on her on the dropship, his gaze assessing her coolly as Hudson spouted off. It was different now, the look he was giving her; there was heat behind the intensity that he seemed content to hold constantly in check. ‘What about you?’ she asked, realising she’d been staring far too long.

‘You know me,’ he grinned at her. ‘I slept on the way down.’ She huffed a laugh and he straightened, dropping his hand back to his side and backing away. ‘I'll keep watch.’

*

Ripley slept fitfully, periods of semi-wakefulness feeling like they lasted for hours while she slept for seemingly only seconds at a time. She’d stretched out behind Newt, smiling when the girl turned and snuggled into her. Whenever she stirred her eyes first lit on Newt, sleeping peacefully beside her, and then on Hicks, sitting on a stool at the end of the bed, eyes on the door.

She awoke from a confused dream - Newt lost on the _Nostromo_ while Mother counted down - and found the other side of the bed empty. She sat up, craning her neck and ignoring her body’s protest at the sudden movement, relaxing only when she heard Newt laugh quietly just outside the curtain, followed by a quiet murmur from Hicks. The curtain was drawn, shutting out the light of the infirmary and making the space around the cot feel almost like a private room - the first privacy Ripley felt like she’d had since the _Nostromo_. She rolled onto her back, stretching an arm up over her head and staring at the ceiling.

It was here. 

She should have swept the _Sulaco_ again and again before going into cryo. She should have made _sure_. 

‘Ripley?’ Newt came through the curtain, coming to a stop by the cot as Ripley swung her legs over the side. She caught Newt in a hug and glanced up as Hicks appeared. 

He dropped a hand on Newt’s shoulder. ‘Why don’t you get Ripley some of that food the doctor brought?’

Newt nodded and disappeared through the curtain. 

Ripley stood, stretching. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘We should tell the kid,’ Hicks said, pitching his voice low so Newt wouldn’t hear. 

As Ripley opened her mouth to reply the infirmary doors burst open, admitting Clemens and Andrews, followed by Dillon and Aaron, who were half carrying, half dragging a struggling fifth man between them. Newt darted between the curtains, ducking behind Ripley as she and Hicks moved to the gap to watch. 

The fifth man was raving, kicking out at Dillon and Aaron as they pushed him onto a cot and used restraints to lash him to the bedframe. Dressed in what seemed to be an improvised straitjacket, he appeared to be covered in blood. ‘It wasn’t me!’ he screamed. ‘Wasn’t me, it was the dragon!’ 

‘Mr Clemens, sedate him!’ Andrews ordered. 

Clemens stepped forwards smartly, filling a hypodermic, but Dillon held out a hand. ‘Not until I hear about the brothers.’ He bent by the struggling man. ‘Golic, pull yourself together, man. What happened to Boggs and Rains?’

‘The dragon!’ Golic said, his voice a hoarse whisper now. ‘It was the dragon.’

Ripley felt Newt slip a hand into hers and glanced down at the girl. She was staring intently at Golic, her face impassive. Ripley shared a look with Hicks before switching her attention back to the prisoner. 

‘I didn’t do it!’ Golic insisted, staring up at Dillon. 

‘Hopeless,’ Andrews snapped. 

‘You called it, sir,’ Aaron sniffed. ‘Mad as a fucking hatter.’

Andrews nodded. ‘Mr Clemens,’ he waved a hand at Golic. 

‘He’s right,’ Ripley called, letting go of Newt’s hand and stepping out from behind the curtain. Behind her, Hicks picked Newt up and followed her into the room. 

‘Stay out of this, Lieutenant,’ Andrews snapped, barely looking at her. He sighed theatrically. ‘We’ll have to send out a search team. You can help with that, Corporal,’ he said, eyeing Hicks. ‘We have to assume that there is a very good chance this simple bastard has murdered them.’

Dillon glared at him. ‘You don't know that. He's never lied to me. He's crazy and he's a fool, but he's not a liar.’

‘I’d like to talk to him about this… dragon,’ Ripley said, her eyes on Golic. 

He met her gaze, his eyes burning at the edge of insanity. ‘Dragon… it was the dragon,’ he whispered harshly, his words slurring as the sedative took effect.

‘You're not talking to anyone, Lieutenant,’ Andrews snapped, turning to glare at her finally. ‘I am not interested in your opinion because you are not in full possession of the facts. This man is a convicted multiple murderer known for particularly brutal crimes.’ He glanced at Dillon. ‘Isn't that right, Mr Dillon?’

Dillon gave him a hard stare before replying. ‘Yeah, that part is right.’

Hicks moved further into the room, flanking Ripley. ‘We need to talk to you.’

‘It’s important,’ Ripley added when the superintendent hesitated.

Andrews rolled his eyes. ‘When I have finished with my official duties I'll be quite pleased to have a little chat.’ He turned and exited the infirmary, Aaron close on his heels. Dillon followed reluctantly, glancing back at Golic before leaving the room.

Clemens shot Ripley a curious look before bending over Golic, checking his pupillary response. ‘Care to tell me what you think is going on here?’ he asked. 

Ripley glanced at Hicks, who shrugged. ‘We’re not sure.’

‘You seem to think you have an idea, however.’

‘We brought one with us,’ Newt said quietly. 

*

‘So let me get this straight. It's an eight-foot insect of some kind with acid for blood and it arrived on your ship. It kills on sight and is generally unpleasant. Her colony was entirely wiped out by it and your squad didn’t fare much better,’ he nodded at Newt and Hicks in turn. ‘You three were the only survivors. And, of course, you expect me to accept all this on your word.’

‘No.’ Ripley pushed away from the wall she’d been leaning against. ‘I don’t expect anything.’

‘Quite the story, Mr Aaron,’ Andrews said. 

Aaron, standing behind Andrews, looked quite pale, as though he was leaning towards accepting what he’d been told. ‘Yes sir,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s a beauty.’

‘If you don’t expect me to believe you what is it you want me to do?’ Andrews asked, his glare still settled on Ripley. 

‘What are we workin’ with here?’ Hicks asked, lighting a cigarette. 

‘Working with?’ Andrews snapped, eyes focusing at the smoke in annoyance.

‘Ordnance,’ the marine supplied, keeping his tone level. 

‘This is a prison. It's not considered a good idea to give the inmates access to firearms.’

Ripley almost laughed in disbelief. ‘This is a maximum security facility and you have no weapons of any kind?’

Andrews looked away, seemingly embarrassed. ‘Some carving knives in the abattoir, a few more in the mess hall. Some fire axes scattered about - nothing terribly formidable, I’m afraid.’

Ripley dropped into a chair beside Newt. ‘Then we're fucked,’ she said, seeing Hicks nod out of the corner of her eye, blowing smoke from his cigarette towards the ceiling.

Andrews leaned across the desk, glaring at Ripley. ‘No, _you're_ fucked. You and the girl are to go back to the infirmary. You should be safe from any large beasts there. Mr Aaron will escort you.’ He turned to Hicks. ‘Corporal, _you_ will accompany me for a little rumour control exercise in the mess hall. There will be no mention of dragons _or_ eight-foot bugs. Afterwards, I will allow you to send your message. ’

*

Ripley and Newt sat on one of the infirmary cots, staring at the sedated Golic. Anger roiled in her stomach and the back of her throat felt tight. Andrews was stupid, but it was her own powerlessness that really rankled. Not knowing where the creature was, or even if it had survived the trip down, they couldn’t protect themselves, couldn’t protect Newt. She’d seen the same helplessness in Hicks’ eyes before Andrews led him away.

‘They don't believe us,’ Newt said quietly, breaking into Ripley’s thoughts.

Ripley slipped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, drawing her in close. ‘They never do.’

Newt glanced up at her. ‘What are we gonna do?’

Ripley thought for a moment, trying to find something to say to comfort Newt. ‘I don’t know, honey. We’ll think of something.’

Clemens entered the infirmary and made his way over to Ripley and Newt. ‘How are you feeling?’

Newt shrugged. ‘Fine.’

‘Good. Lieutenant?’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘And don’t lie.’

‘Not so hot. Sick to my stomach, headache.’ Ripley smiled ruefully. ‘Pissed off.’

‘I thought so,’ Clemens said, opening a drawer and withdrawing an ampule. ‘So,’ he said conversationally as he drew the mixture into a hypodermic. ‘Would you like to tell me what you talked about with Andrews?’

‘No,’ Ripley said. ‘You’ll just think I’m crazy.’

‘Try me,’ Clemens said. 

‘Are you married?’ Golic called from across the infirmary. ‘You and the soldier?’ He continued, not waiting for an answer. ‘He’s lucky. Got himself a pretty girl like you. I know lots of 'em. Pretty girls. Back home. They always liked me.’ Golic paused, waiting until he caught Ripley’s eye. ‘You're gonna die too.’

Clemens tapped the syringe. ‘You’re not, are you?’

Distracted, Ripley tore her eyes away from Golic. ‘What?’

‘Married.’

‘Why?’ 

‘Just curious,’ Clemens shrugged.

‘How did you end up posted here?’ Ripley said, not caring that the change of subject was jarring.

Clemens merely raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s a long story. And more than a little melodramatic.’ When Ripley raised an eyebrow of her own he sighed. ‘If you insist.’ He sat back slightly, his gaze turning inwards. ‘After my student years, despite the fact that I had secretly become addicted to Morphine, I was considered most promising. A man with a future. While I was on my first residency, I did a 36-hour stretch in an E.R., went out and got more than slightly drunk. I got called back to duty after a boiler blew on a fuel station. Thirty patients.’ He looked back at her, holding her eye. ‘Eleven of them died when I prescribed the wrong dosage of painkiller.’

‘You served your sentence here?’ Ripley asked quietly.

‘Yes. I kicked my habit and got to know this motley crew quite well. So when they stayed, I stayed.’ He shrugged. ‘Nobody else would employ me. The question is, do you still trust me with a needle?’

Ripley smiled and pushed back her sleeve. As Clemens bent over her arm Newt shot off the bed and scrambled back against the wall, scrabbling at a grate set close to the floor. Ripley looked up, watching in horror as the alien descended from a ceiling panel. Her lungs emptied of air, her body struggling to process what was happening as the alien’s second jaw shot out, ripping into the back of Clemens’ head.

She scrambled backwards, knocking the cot over in her haste to get away. As the alien stalked toward her she fell in front of the grate Newt had managed to get behind. There was nowhere to run to, no way to get away from it. The alien hissed, its inner jaw extending until it was millimetres from her face, then stopped, as though toying with her.

‘Mommy!’ Newt screamed from behind the grate. 

The alien drew back slowly, grabbing Clemens’ body and disappearing back into the ceiling. Ripley dropped her head back against the wall, sobs boiling out of her. She felt the grate pressing into her back and shifted slightly, barely conscious of Newt climbing out. 

‘Ripley, we have to go!’ the girl said, tugging her arm urgently. ‘C’mon!’

Finally, Newt’s voice got through to Ripley. She stood, staring wildly around the infirmary before grabbing Newt’s hand and heading for the door. They ran through the complex hand in hand, following the signs for the mess hall until the double doors appeared in front of them. 

Ripley slammed them open. ‘It's here!’ she yelled.

Hicks jumped down from the table he’d been sitting on and was at her side without seeming to cross the intervening space. ‘Where?’

‘It got Clemens!’ 

Andrews, apparently mid-speech, spun and levelled a glare at her. ‘Stop this raving at once!’

‘I'm telling you, it's here!’ Ripley growled.

‘Corporal Hicks, get that foolish woman under control at once.’ Andrews bellowed. ‘Mr Aaron, get her back to the infirmary.’ As Aaron stepped towards Ripley a grate dropped from the ceiling and the monster descended, grabbing hold of Andrews and dragging him up and out of the room. Andrews’ scream was abruptly cut off as blood rained down from the duct. 


	5. Fire

Ripley watched as one of the prisoners mopped up the blood, all but bent in a crouch in an effort to be as far away from the duct opening as possible. She was sitting with Newt and Hicks on a table at the back of the mess hall, sharing a cigarette with the marine. In the centre of the mess, Dillon led the prisoners in prayer. They were remarkably controlled, for all that their fear was palpable. 

A strange kind of calm had descended on Ripley now the alien had shown itself. Newt seemed to be similarly affected, sitting quietly at Ripley’s feet and watching the prisoners at prayer. Hicks had said nothing since the prayer started, climbing up to sit on the table and lighting a cigarette, eyes narrowed as he looked at each of the prisoners in turn. Ripley turned her attention to her own assessment of the remaining denizens of Fury. What she saw didn’t make her feel any more optimistic. 

Apparently, Hicks shared her view. He blew out a breath and stubbed the cigarette out on the table, drawing his knees up and folding his arms across them. 

Ripley nudged him. ‘Not your thing, huh?’ The corner of his mouth turned up but he didn’t speak.

Finally, the prayer ended, Dillon rising to his feet and stepping back. 

‘So what now?’ one of the prisoners called. ‘Who’s in charge now?’

Aaron stepped forward. ‘I guess I’m next in line,’ he said, taking a deep breath

Some of the prisoners laughed, a few of them groaned. No one appeared to take him seriously. 

The one called Morse rolled his eyes. ‘Eighty-five’s gonna be in charge? Give me a fucking break.’

‘Don’t call me that!’ Aaron said, whirling angrily to face Morse, who seemed entirely unperturbed. ‘Look,’ Aaron said, turning to face the room. ‘I know I can’t replace Andrews. You lot didn’t appreciate him but he was a good man. But-’

Dillon had clearly had enough. ‘Aaron, we don’t wanna hear that shit right now.’ He turned, his gaze zeroing in on Ripley and Hicks. ‘We got officers here. One of you wanna show a little leadership?

'I'm not an officer, ' Hicks said softly. Ripley glanced at him, raising an eyebrow in silent interrogation.

‘Who the fuck are they?’ one of the prisoners demanded. ‘Why don’t you take charge, Dillon? You run this place anyway.’

Aaron looked as though he wanted to object but didn’t dare. Dillon merely shook his head. ‘No fuckin’ way. I ain’t the officer type,’ he said, looking around at each and every prisoner in turn. ‘I just take care of my own.’

‘So what now?’ a prisoner asked. ‘Is this motherfucker gonna try for us all?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Ripley said quietly, rising and stepping forward to stand next to Dillon. 

‘Fucking great,’ Morse growled. ‘How do we stop it?’

Ripley glanced over at Hicks and he stood up to join her, snagging Newt’s hand on the way and bringing her with him. ‘We have no weapons, right?’ she asked. 

‘Right,’ Aaron said. 

‘What about video tracking?’ Hicks asked, glancing up. ‘There’s cameras all over.’

Aaron shook his head. ‘Video system hasn’t worked in years. Nothing much works here. We’ve got a load of tech but no way to fix any of it.’

Morse jumped down from the table he’d been sitting on. ‘What Eighty-Five’s tryin’ to tell you-’

‘Don’t call me that!’ Aaron snapped. 

Morse continued as though he hadn’t spoken, moving until he was toe to toe with Ripley. ‘Is we got no entertainment centre, no climate control, no viewscreens, no surveillance, no freezers, no fuckin' ice cream, no guns, no rubbers, no women, all we got here is  _ shit _ .’ He glanced over his shoulder at the other prisoners. ‘What the hell are we even talkin' to her for? She's the one that brought the fucker. Let's shove her head through the fucking wall.’

Without breaking eye contact with Morse, Ripley held out an arm, catching Hicks in the chest as he stepped forward. 

Morse grinned horribly. ‘Don’t like it, soldier boy? Come and have a go, then. Don’t let your girlfriend stop you.’

‘Morse?’ Dillon called quietly. ‘Shut the fuck up.’

‘We need to seal ourselves off,’ Ripley said, dropping her arm when she felt Hicks relax. 

‘Not possible,’ Aaron said. This place is ten miles square. There’s six hundred air ducts that run to the surface.’

‘Show us,’ Hicks said.

*

Half an hour later, Ripley went looking for Hicks and Aaron. They’d disappeared after the meeting, heading for the superintendent’s office in search of the prison blueprints. She’d stayed behind to talk to Dillon about what would be needed from the prisoners, keeping one eye on the one called Morse while she spoke. 

Newt was silent, walking so close to Ripley that she might as well be carrying her. Ripley looked down at the top of the girl’s head. ‘You alright?’ Newt’s head bobbed, the girl nodding rather than speaking. 

Ripley sighed, remembering how talkative Newt had been on the  _ Sulaco _ \- for her, at least - sitting on Hicks’ lap and eating from the marine’s plate as she spoke. Now the girl had reverted to silence. It was a good defence mechanism, Ripley reflected. Under threat from both the alien and the general population, Newt couldn’t run and hide here, all she could do was keep quiet, hoping slip to beneath notice. 

Ripley wished she could do the same. The fact was that they were under threat and keeping Newt with her only made them a bigger target. 

They found Aaron alone in Andrews’ office, sitting in the superintendent’s chair. He stood guiltily when they entered, moving as though burned. 'Lieutenant Ripley! I was just-'

‘You find those blueprints?’ Ripley asked, ignoring the young man’s discomfort and cutting off his stuttering. 

Aaron held up a fistful of papers. 'This is all we've got.'

'Get those down to the mess. Where's Hicks?' 

'He took the fire axes and left. I think he said something about the kitchen.' Aaron glanced at Newt. ‘You know you two really shouldn’t be-’

Ripley turned on her heel and left, effectively silencing Aaron again. When she entered the kitchen hand in hand with Newt she found Hicks sorting through the kitchen units. ‘Any luck?’

He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. ‘Not so much,’ he said, nodding toward the bench where he’d laid out a depressingly small array of items that could only loosely be considered weapons, including what looked like a steak mallet. ‘Most everything’s only good for close combat, which…’ he sent her a meaningful look, waving a hand obliquely at his face. 

‘Acid for blood,’ Ripley said. ‘So there’s nothing?’ She lifted Newt and sat her on the workbench. 

‘Fire axes’re about the best of it. I guess Andrews wasn’t kidding.’

‘I guess not,’ Ripley said, watching as Newt picked up the mallet. ‘You send your message?’

Hicks shook his head, turning back and yanking open another drawer. ‘No point. They'll have gotten the databurst from the Sulaco. Plus,’ he said, extracting a cleaver and hefting it to feel the weight. ‘I’m not exactly sure we want them to put a rush on getting here before we’ve dealt with the bug.’

Ripley bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she had his confidence. 'Hicks,’ she said, dropping her voice. ‘I want you to take care of Newt. If one of those assholes loses control I want you there. Keep her with you.'

He stilled, looking over his shoulder at her. 'Where are you gonna be?’

‘Aaron’s going to show me the air ducts. See what we can do about containing it, maybe find a way to kill it.’

Hicks turned and leaned against the counter, regarding her carefully. ‘Split up?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ he said slowly. ‘We should stay together.’ 

‘I need you here. Help Dillon get the prisoners organised; it’ll be back soon and we need to be ready.’

‘If I’m with them, shouldn’t you keep the kid with you?’

‘She’s safer with you.’

‘Ripley-’ he raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, pressing the heel of his hand hard into the knot of muscle there. 

‘I can take care of myself. I'll feel better if she's with you.’ He regarded her for a long moment before nodding. Relieved, Ripley moved to stand in front of Newt. 'Newt, I need you to stay with Hicks. He’s gonna take care of you while I check some stuff out. Okay, baby?

‘Okay,’ Newt nodded. She jumped down from the counter and walked to take Hicks’ hand, looking up at him solemnly.

‘I need you to take care of him, too,’ Ripley said, rising and meeting Hicks gaze. 

He still wasn’t happy, she could see, his eyes holding hers for a moment too long before he looked down at Newt and smiled, tightening his fingers around her smaller ones.

*

Ripley stood in the centre of the mess hall, waiting for the prisoners to settle into their seats. Beside her, Aaron shifted uncomfortably, tapping his clipboard against his leg. Ripley glanced at him, annoyed at his fidgeting and he stilled, blanching. A wave of nausea flooded through her and she stiffened, fighting not to let her exhaustion show. The early ejection from cryo was really messing with her and she made a mental note to visit the infirmary for a stabilizer.

Hicks and Newt sat on a bench off to the side, Hicks watching the prisoners with a careful eye even as he affected a relaxed posture. The harsh light of the mess threw the scars on his face into sharp relief, making him look more threatening. Ripley caught some of the prisoners throwing him an almost challenging look, which he stared down calmly.

Finally, the prisoners seemed to have settled as much as they were going to, their eyes falling on her expectantly. 

In short order, she explained the plan, breaking it down for them. Chase the alien through the system, line the way with the quinitricetyline and use the fire to flush it out into the toxic waste storage unit. Lock it up. 

When she’d finished speaking, Dillon raised a hand. ‘Lemme get this straight. You wanna burn it down and out, force it in there, slam the door and trap its ass?’

‘That’s right,’ Ripley nodded.

Dillon raised an eyebrow. ‘And you want help from us double-Y-chromo boys?’

‘You got something better to do?’ 

‘Why should we put our ass on the line for you?’

Ripley laughed mirthlessly. ‘Your ass is already on the line. The only question is: what are you gonna do about it?’

Dillon held her gaze for a moment, his eyes registering slight admiration before he nodded. ‘What do we do?’

‘Aaron?’ Ripley said, stepping back. 

‘Right,’ Aaron said, consulting his clipboard. ‘We need batteries for the flashlights and a team to paint the quini… quini…’

‘Quinitricetyline,’ David, the prisoner who’d shown Ripley the stash, called out.

‘To paint it along the route,’ Aaron finished.

As Dillon began to divide up the prisoners, Ripley retreated to where Hicks and Newt were sitting. Hicks had turned back to lean over the table, examining Aaron’s blueprint.

‘What's this?’ Ripley asked.

‘Leadworks,’ Hicks said, tapping a section of the blueprint. ‘I thought maybe...’

‘Maybe we could use it?’ 

He shrugged. ‘It's just an idea. Not much of one at this point.’ 

She leaned down next to him, her eyes tracking over the blueprint. ‘Aaron was right, this place is a maze.’

‘Yeah, I don’t like our chances. Your plan's better.’ He folded up the blueprint, tucking it into his pants pocket as Aaron joined them. 

‘Dillon wants to know where you want everyone,’ Aaron said. 

Ripley looked at Hicks, seeing that he was still pensive. ‘Something on your mind?’ 

‘It killed them,’ Hicks said, eyes finding the vent the alien had dragged Andrews through. 

‘So?’ Aaron said. ‘That's what it does, right?’

‘No,’ Hicks said, sharing a look with Ripley. 

‘They take you away,’ Newt said, watching the prisoners with interest.

*

The quinitricetyline made Ripley’s head swim, the fumes clawing at her chest and making her eyes water. She leaned against the mop, trying to drag air into her lungs and wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

Dillon glanced up from his own mop, eyeing her with something akin to amusement in his eyes. ‘Morse right? About you and the marine.’

Ripley went back to swabbing the floor. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said. 

Hicks’ voice drifted down the corridor from where he and Aaron were addressing the prisoners. ‘You hold off on lighting the fire until I give the signal, you got that?’ 

As the prisoners murmured in the affirmative and went back to swabbing, Ripley felt nausea overwhelm her she leaned against the wall, gagging and gasping for breath.

‘You alright?’ Dillon asked, backing away when she waved him off. 

Hicks appeared at her side, taking her elbow gently. ‘Ripley?’

She looked up at him, making an effort to straighten despite the churning in her stomach. ‘Still sick from cryo,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’

Hicks narrowed his eyes, dropping his voice slightly. ‘Why don’t you sit this out? You don’t look so hot.’

Ripley rolled her eyes. ‘Thanks,’ she said sarcastically. Hicks grinned and glanced away. ‘Where are we with the batteries?’

As Hicks and Newt disappeared in search of the flashlight batteries, Ripley started swabbing again. She paused, feeling Dillon’s eyes on her. ‘What?’ she asked, horrified to find she was blushing and hoping he couldn’t see it in the dark.

He huffed a laugh, nodding in the direction Hicks had taken. ‘That’s what I figured.’

Ripley rolled her eyes again, searching for a reply but was saved when Aaron’s voice rang through the corridor. 

‘Wait for the fucking signal!’

‘What is that?’ Dillon asked. 

The roar hit Ripley’s ears and she  _ knew _ . ‘Down!’ She grabbed the back of Dillon’s jacket and yanked him back into the corridor, tucking them both away in a doorway as she saw Aaron and two of the prisoners follow them in. The fire ripped past the mouth of the corridor, sucking all the oxygen with it.

Ripley gasped, feeling the heat scorching her face. As the roar of the fire died down she could hear screams. Dillon swore and surged forwards, but she grabbed the back of his jacket, straining to hold him in place. 

‘You can’t help them!’ she yelled, tightening her grip as he struggled.

As the screams died away Ripley released Dillon’s jacket. He jerked away, spinning and glaring at her. As he opened his mouth he was cut off by Morse yelling in the corridor.

‘It’s here! It’s fucking  _ here _ !’

Something black and gleaming raced past the entrance to the corridor and Ripley pushed past Dillon and Aaron. As she emerged into the corridor she froze. It was there, outlined against the fire and smoke. She backed away, keeping her eyes fixed on the alien and waiting for it to surge forward. Instead, it raised itself up on its hind legs, hissing as it swayed towards her. Some remote part of her brain that was still functioning prodded her. It looked… uncertain.

Suddenly it turned, streaming away towards the storage unit. 

‘Lock it up!’ Aaron screamed.

‘No!’ Ripley yelled desperately. ‘Wait until it’s ins-’ 

Too late. The doors to the storage unit slammed closed, the bolts sliding home as the alien swarmed up the wall and disappeared into a vent. 

*


	6. Inside

When Hicks arrived in the burned-out corridor he looked as close as Ripley had ever seen him come to panic as his eyes swept the still-smoking human debris left in the wake of the fire. Newt spotted Ripley first, grabbing Hicks’ sleeve and pointing before setting off at a run, flinging herself at Ripley so hard she was almost knocked off her feet. 

Hicks hung back a little and settled for running his eyes over Ripley, scrutinising her for any damage. ‘You alright?’ he asked, having finally assured himself she was physically whole.

She nodded, still holding Newt close. ‘It got away.’

‘Damn it,’ Hicks muttered, his jaw clenching. ‘Can we try again?’

‘It’s meant for toxic waste,’ Aaron spoke up. ‘Once the door’s closed it can’t be opened again by us.’

Hicks rolled his eyes. ‘Great.’

As they made their way to the mess hall, Hicks told her he’d managed to pull together some sort of perimeter alarm system, using spare parts he'd gotten from God knew where. ‘Don’t know how good it'll be,’ he said. ‘Tech stuff ain’t really my thing.’ 

‘Better than nothing,’ Ripley said, seeing Dillon nod. ‘Nice work.’

He shrugged. ‘We're still blind all over,’ he said, raising a hand as though to run it through his hair and stopping abruptly. 

It was a much-reduced group that reconvened in the mess. The prisoners, less than ten of them left now, sat in various places around the mess, all their aggression was gone, leaving each man looking smaller than before. Smaller and completely alone. 

Ripley remembered this moment aboard the _Nostromo_. After Dallas had been taken, quiet had descended, even Parker suddenly having nothing to say. She’d tried to concentrate on what they could do, trying to find a logical path that kept them all alive.

Better trained to cope with massive losses, the marines' moment of realisation had been somewhat different. Vasquez convinced until the end that they could find a way to eliminate the threat. Hudson slowly losing his mind but easily recalled to sanity when he had something to do. Hicks reluctantly taking charge much as she had; managing to keep them all afloat with a mix of softly spoken authority and unabashed faith in Ripley’s ability to outwit their enemy.

Dillon was once again leading them in prayer, this time focusing on those they’d lost, but Ripley found she was having even more trouble concentrating on what he said than before. The pain in her chest was like a weight now, making her feel heavy and sluggish, the very air feeling thick as she tried to push it through her lungs. 

She shot a sidelong look at Hicks, but he was caught up in a mess of wires held in his lap. Taking advantage of his distraction, she sidled up to Aaron, keeping her voice low. ‘You have a neuro scanner here?’ she asked. 

Aaron almost laughed. ‘Not a chance.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Doesn't your EEV have one?’ 

‘It’s on the beach,’ Ripley reminded him, fighting the urge to snap at the man. The discovery that it was his IQ that had earned him his nickname had depressed rather than surprised her and he seemed keen to showcase his stupidity at every turn.

He shook his head. ‘The corporal had us use the oxen to bring it in.’

Ripley glanced over at Hicks, head still bent over whatever it was he was fiddling with. She wanted to question him about that but her chest constricted painfully, robbing her of her breath. ‘Where is it?’ she managed to gasp. 

As her voice rose, Dillon looked over at her. ‘Hey, you don't look so good, sister.’

Hicks looked up, his forehead creasing in concern. He handed the wires off to Newt to untangle and rose, pausing in his step when Ripley waved him off. ‘I’m fine,’ she murmured.

‘Who gives a shit how she looks?’ Morse growled, wiping sweat out of his eyes. ‘What the fuck are we gonna do?’

‘Shut the fuck up and stop causing panic!’ Aaron snapped, his voice rising. 

‘Panic? You're so goddamn stupid, you couldn’t spell it!’ Morse said, squaring up to Aaron. ‘Don't tell me about panic! We ought to panic! We're screwed!’ He shoved Aaron, sending the other man back a few steps before he surged forwards, stopped only by Hicks stepping smartly between the two.

Ripley walked away, figuring there was only one place they could have put the EEV. When she found it she was worried to see it was in a worse state than she remembered. This must have been where Hicks had gotten his spare parts, she realised, seeing gaps in the panels. 

As she stripped down and climbed into the cryotube to initiate the scan, Aaron caught up with her. 

‘Corporal Hicks asked me to come and see if you need help with what you’re doing. He’s helping Dillon with the others, it got a bit… heated,’ he said, keeping his eyes on the floor to avoid looking at her in her skivvies. ‘Uh… what _are_ you doing?’

‘I need to use the catscan. Do me a favour and run the keyboard?’

Aaron looked at the keyboard with an expression of mild panic. ‘What do I press? I don’t know how to work this thing.’

‘You want the bio-scan,’ Ripley said. ‘Should be either B or C.’ She heard a quiet click as Aaron pressed one of the buttons. ‘Internal bleeding will show up as a dark patch,’ she said, watching the scanner start to move. 

‘I really don’t know what I’m-’ Aaron said, breaking off abruptly. 

‘What?’ Ripley asked.

‘I… I don’t know how to tell you this, but…’ Aaron swallowed hard. ‘You’ve got one inside you.’

Ripley closed her eyes. Not internal bleeding, then. She should have known. ‘Freeze it.’

‘What?’

‘Freeze the monitor. I need to see it.’

‘I don’t-’

‘Do it!’ she ordered, waiting until she heard the click of the keyboard before swinging her legs out of the tube. 

She stared at the screen, her head filled with white noise as her eyes tracked over the alien, registering its shape with something akin to recognition. It was different from what she'd imagined, bigger, somehow, the head wider than the one she'd seen erupting from Kane too many times now to count.

This was it, then; after everything, it had won. It was almost a relief. Almost. As Aaron babbled away next to her she tried to assess its development but realised that was impossible. The different shape and the longer gestation seemed to point to one thing: this was a queen. She had no frame of reference for how this was going to go down.

‘ _Lieutenant_ ,’ Aaron said, sounding as though he was repeating himself. ‘Should I get Corporal Hicks?’

His insistence broke through the rushing noise in Ripley’s head, leaving a wide-open space. Hicks and Newt.

‘Lieutenant Ripley?’ Aaron asked again.

‘No,’ she said quietly. She reached for her clothes, pulling them on in a daze, her eyes still locked on the frozen image of the alien embryo. ‘Thanks for your help,’ she muttered, pushing past Aaron and out of the EEV. 

Only Dillon remained in the mess, sipping what looked like cold coffee. ‘Girl was tired,’ he said when he saw her. ‘Your soldier took her to Andrews’ office. No air conditioning in there,’ he added. ‘No chance that fucker can sneak up on them.’

‘Right,’ Ripley said. ‘I’ve been thinking. This place is a leadworks, right?’ Dillon nodded. ‘I think we can use that,’ she said. ‘Draw it in there.’

‘You want to try trapping it again?’ Dillon asked sceptically.

‘I want to try killing it,’ she corrected. ‘Can you get everybody back here in an hour?’

‘They ain’t gonna like it,’ Dillon said.

‘I don’t need them to like it.’ Ripley turned to leave only to find Dillon’s hand on her sleeve, his touch surprisingly gentle for such a fearsome man. 

‘You alright?’

‘You care?’ she asked. 

‘If we’re gonna fight this thing we need you,’ Dillon said, withdrawing his hand. ‘You need to keep your shit together.’

‘Right,’ Ripley said again. ‘Excuse me.’

*

When she reached Andrews’ office she found it empty and panic surged through her for a moment before her eyes fell on a half-open door in the back corner of the room. She closed the office door and locked it, approaching the second door on silent feet and peering through the gap into the gloom beyond. 

The anteroom was small, the cot pushed up against one wall and a chest of drawers pretty much filling the space. Newt was laying with her head in Hicks' lap, seemingly fast asleep, one of Hicks' hands held tightly in her own much smaller one and Hicks’ jacket laid over her, serving as a makeshift blanket. Hicks glanced up and acknowledged her with a slight smile before turning his attention quickly back to Newt. Ripley watched them from the doorway, feeling her heart stutter against her ribs as Newt screwed her face up, her tiny body tensing as a nightmare took hold. Hicks raised his free hand and ran it over Newt’s shaven head gently. Ripley could hear him murmuring softly, his tone comforting even though she couldn't make out the words. 

After a moment Newt quieted, her hand loosening around Hicks' as she fell into a deeper sleep. Ripley felt her throat constrict as she watched them, tears she couldn't shed burning her eyes. Her gut twisted painfully, her mind momentarily consumed with the idea that they could so easily have not been here with her. If Hicks had come out of cryo even minutes later that support beam would have run him through and Newt would have drowned, seawater flooding her cryotube as she slept. The treacherous thought occurred that maybe that would have been easier than having to tell the girl this.

Satisfied the girl was calm, Hicks looked up at Ripley, tilting his head to indicate the space beside him. Ripley shook her head, forcing herself to smile back and jerking a thumb over her shoulder, stepping back into the main office. 

Moments later, Hicks slipped through the door, closing it behind himself and looking up at her curiously. Close to, she could see he had the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek. Ripley raised an eyebrow at him. ‘What happened to you?’

‘S’nothin’.’

‘Hicks-’

‘Conversation with that guy… Morse?’ She nodded. ‘Got out of hand.’ He shrugged. ‘I took care of it.’

Ripley’s brows knit together but she didn’t press. ‘Newt okay?’ she said instead. ‘She’s sleeping a lot.’

'Cryo's still messing with her,' Hicks shrugged, adding, ‘She’s worried about you.’

‘Dillon's gathering everyone that's left in the mess in an hour,’ she said, ignoring the leading comment and accompanying look in his eyes. ‘I’ve got a new idea.’

Hicks looked curious. ‘What idea?’

‘Something you said, actually. The leadworks. If we can get it in there I think we've got a pretty good shot at killing it. We've certainly got the bait.’

He looked at her for a moment before realisation dawned. ‘You mean us.’

Ripley nodded. ‘If we can draw it in we can drown it in lead.’ 

Hicks looked dubious, crossing his arms over his chest and then hastily uncrossing them, stretching the left out. ‘I don't know…’ he drawled. ‘It's pretty risky.’ 

‘Riskier than doing nothing? We need to kill it before the company gets here; before it kills all of us. I need you to work with Dillon, assign whoever’s left along the route.’

He cocked his head, looking at her intently. ‘Newt told me what happened in the infirmary. Dillon said it happened again in the fire. It was this close to you and then it just left. What does that mean?’

She couldn’t do it, she realised. With him standing there, looking every bit as battered and vulnerable as she felt, she couldn’t tell him. So she kissed him, pressing him back into the wall, her fingers finding the hem of his shirt and yanking it upwards, slipping her hand beneath it to find the heat of his skin.

‘Hey,’ he pulled back and gently took hold of her hand. When she met his gaze he gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Not sure this is the right time.’

Ripley gave a hollow laugh. ‘This might be the _only_ time.’ 

Hicks seemed to consider that, his eyes searching her face intently for a moment. Then, slowly, he bent his head and kissed her, hands finding her waist and turning them both so he was the one pressing her into the wall. Absurdly, she suddenly felt safer, as though being trapped between Hicks and the wall could protect her from the monster inside her own body. As his hands moved over her she realised how bruised she was. She’d been so focused on moving forward, on keeping them alive, that she hadn't had time to give much thought to the crash landing. 

No time.

Abruptly, Hicks’ hands felt too gentle, so she gripped his shirt, yanking his body flush against hers and hearing him grunt softly as the impact jarred the wounds on his chest.

‘You sure about this?’ he asked, slightly breathless. 

She gave him a sardonic look and he grinned, dipping his head to kiss her again, his hands sliding under her oversized shirt. All too soon, he broke the kiss, smirking at Ripley’s growl of frustration as he leaned his forehead against hers. ‘We’re gonna make it,’ he murmured. 

She met his steady gaze, seeing just how much he believed what he was saying and found she couldn't tell him why he was wrong, the words sticking in her throat. Instead, she nodded, her fingers tightening at the back of his neck, pulling him back to her. 

‘You, me and Newt,’ he said, dropping his head and murmuring the last words against her neck, just below her ear. ‘I don't give a damn about the rest of them.’ 

*

Afterwards, she left Hicks to wake Newt and bring her to the mess, saying there was something she needed to do before meeting them all in the mess. Something in her was appalled at her own cowardice in running away from him, but the idea of telling him - of telling Newt - exhausted her more than she’d thought possible. It hurt, and the hurt was a dull ache that even the time they’d spent in quiet desperation in Andrews’ office could only hold at bay for so long. 

A lifetime ago she’d been brave enough to ask and he’d been brave enough to promise he’d take care of her if this happened but now it came to it she couldn’t bring herself to even tell him. She needed him to take care of Newt - he couldn’t be the one to do it, no matter how much more merciful it might have been. Luckily, he didn’t have to, she realised, the thought forcing a grim smile onto her face. 

She couldn’t ask him to do it and the fucking alien _wouldn’t_ do it, but that didn’t matter. Not when they were surrounded by men who took pride in reminding her that they were killers. 

Ripley found Dillon in the cellblock, head bent in prayer. ‘That ever work?’ she asked, peering at him through the bars as she made her way into the cell.

He looked up at her, seemingly unsurprised at her presence, and she figured he must have heard her coming. ‘You ever try it?’ 

‘It won’t kill me,’ she said. 

Dillon raised his eyebrows at her change in topic. ‘I saw that,’ he said.

‘It won’t kill me because it knows I’ve got one inside me,’ she told him, finding it surprisingly easy to keep her voice steady. ‘It’s a queen.’

He stood. ‘How do you know this thing's inside you?’

‘I saw it,’ Ripley said, swallowing past a dry throat. ‘On the catscan. It's a queen. An egg layer. It can make thousands like the one that's running around out there.’ She glanced over her shoulder then looked back at him, her eyes sharp. ‘It won’t kill me, and I can’t do what I should…’

She watched as realisation dawned. Dillon held up his hands. ‘No,’ he said, glaring at her. ‘I took vows.’

‘I don’t give a shit about your vows.’

‘Get your marine to do it.’

‘I can't ask him to do that,’ she said quietly. ‘Please, Dillon. The company wants it but I’ve seen these things in action. If they get it off-world it’ll wipe out the universe.’

He shook his head, his expression set. ‘I don't like losin' a fight. Not to nobody, not to nothin'. That damn thing out there's already killed half my men, got the other half scared shitless.’ His voice softened slightly. ‘As long as it's alive, sister, you're not gonna save any universe.’

‘You’re not hearing me!’ Ripley snapped. 

Dillon’s head jerked up, his gaze focusing beyond her just as she heard the footsteps. At the sound of Hicks’ voice her eyes fell closed. 

‘Ripley? What's goin’ on?’ 

She turned, seeing he was alone. ‘Where's Newt?’

‘With Aaron,’ he said. ‘You wanna tell me what's going on here?’ he asked, glancing from her to Dillon.

Ripley opened her mouth but no words came.

‘She's got one inside her,’ Dillon said.

Green eyes flashed to hers, looking for confirmation before falling shut. ‘How?’

‘Onboard the _Sulaco_ ,’ she said, the words easier now. ‘I think it's what triggered the evacuation. It came off, got damaged, bled into the floor. It's the only explanation I can-’

‘Stop,’ Hicks ordered, opening his eyes and locking them on hers.

Ripley shook her head urgently. ‘This is happening,’ she said, her voice stronger. ‘Hicks... Dwayne-’

‘Don't,’ he cut her off, his voice suddenly hoarse. 

‘You said you'd help me. If it came to this you said you’d help me.’

‘We still have time.’ 

‘For what?’ She laughed incredulously. ‘There’s nothing we can do.’ 

He glared at her. ‘I don't know. _Something_. The rescue ship-’

‘Won't be here for days,’ she said, trying to gentle her voice. ‘And even then, you _know_ they won't kill it.’

Hicks stared at her, his mouth opening and closing as though he was trying to speak and couldn’t. Always quiet, but she’d never had the impression he couldn’t find words before now. 

Dillon stepped forward, breaking their impasse. ‘Nobody's killing nobody until that thing is dead,’ he growled. The way you and him tell it, you've survived twice. We need you to help us kill it, sister.’ Ripley rounded on him, ready to argue, but he held up a hand, stalling her. ‘I wanna get this thing, and I need you to do it. And if it won't kill you, then maybe that helps us fight it.’

She slumped against the bars, resignation washing through her. ‘Alright,’ she said, straightening. ‘We waste this thing, then you take care of me,’ she said, keeping her eyes on Dillon and ignoring Hicks’ stare.

Dillon nodded. ‘No problem. Quick, easy and painless.’

Ripley pushed away from the bars. ‘Then let’s go get this fucker.’


	7. Monster Maze

Hicks had slipped away while Dillon and Ripley gathered the prisoners. They were in the main cell block this time, Dillon reasoning that the lack of air conditioning would provide at least some protection. Ten minutes into the meeting Hicks reappeared, with Newt on his hip. The girl saw Ripley and smiled, sliding to the ground and climbing up onto the table beside Ripley, leaning into her side. 

Ripley raised her arm, dropping it around Newt’s shoulders. ‘Hey, where'd you go?’

‘Hicks showed me a picture of my insides.’ Ripley looked up, meeting Hicks’ eyes. He shook his head once before turning his attention to Dillon.

As Dillon stood Hicks retreated to the shadows, leaning against the wall until he was all but invisible. 

‘We need to talk about how we’re gonna kill this thing,’ Dillon said, turning in a slow circle to catch the eye of the remaining prisoners. 

‘Let’s hole up in the cells. No AC in here!’ One of the prisoners called down. ‘I say we wait it out.’ This last was met with general approval. 

Dillon remained unimpressed. ‘Okay, just sit there on your asses. Fine.’

Morse raised a hand, grinning. ‘How about if _I_ sit here on _my_ arse?’

‘No problem,’ Dillon shrugged. ‘Oh, I forgot. You're the guy that's made a deal with God to live forever, huh?’ he turned on his heel, addressing the rest of the room again. ‘And all the rest of you pussies can sit it out too.’ He gestured towards Newt and Ripley with the axe he’d slung over his shoulder. ‘Me and them'll do all the fighting.’

‘What?’ Morse scoffed. ‘You two and the kid?’

Dillon glanced over his shoulder and Hicks stepped into the light, flanking him.

‘Oh,’ Morse said, rolling his eyes. ‘Us, the woman, the kid and the soldier who couldn't even keep his own fucking mates alive. _Great_.’ 

‘I’m all for killing this thing,’ David called out, a bite of impatience in his voice as he cut his eye at Morse. ‘But why the fuck can't we wait for the company to have some guns on our side? Why should we go on a suicide run?’

Ripley sighed. How could these prisoners, left to rot lightyears from the nearest civilised world, believe that the company would have anything in mind but their own agenda? It was almost sad. ‘Because they won't kill it,’ she called out, her gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance and fifty-odd years ago. ‘They might kill you just for having seen it but they won’t kill _it_.’

In her peripheral vision, she saw Aaron throw up his hands. ‘That is crazy! That is horse shit! They will not kill _us_!’

Ripley released Newt and slipped down from the table, turning to look at the prisoners finally. ‘When they first heard about this thing, it was _crew expendable_. The next time they sent in marines - they were expendable too.’ She saw Hicks stiffen but holding herself together was taking everything she had, she couldn't afford to spare him a thought right now. 

She stepped in front of the marine and Dillon, allowing her eyes to drift over eyes on the assembled inmates. ‘What makes you think they're gonna care about a bunch of lifers who found God at the ass-end of space? You really think they're gonna let you interfere with their plans for this thing? They think we're… we’re crud.' She felt her throat tighten and was seized by a moment of panic before she realised her eyes were stinging with tears, that it was the words sticking, choking her. 'And they don't give a fuck about one friend of yours that's... that's died. Not one.’

Ripley felt something press against her arm and glanced to the side to see Hicks had moved, standing so their arms were pressed together in a quiet show of support, his eyes on the assembled inmates. Relief flooded her and she pressed back against him, grateful for the gentle contact as Newt appeared on her other side and slipped a tiny hand into hers.

The prisoners stared at them, eyes flicking from the three survivors of LV-426 to Dillon and back again, uncertainty mixing with a certain kind of fatalistic resignation she recognised. 

Finally, David spoke. ‘Have got some sort of plan?’

Sensing the turning tide, Dillon stepped forward, slinging his axe over his shoulder. ‘This is a leadworks, isn't it? All we gotta do is lure the fuckin’ beast into the mould, drown it in hot lead.’

'And how do we do that?' Morse asked.

‘Yeah,’ someone else added. ‘What do we use for bait?’

'Guess,' Hicks said, dropping his cigarette and grinding it out under his boot. 

Dillon nodded as the prisoners murmured their disgust at the plan. 'You're all gonna die. The only question is how you check out. Do you want it on your feet? Or on your fuckin' knees... begging? I ain't much for begging! Nobody ever gave me nothing! So I say _fuck_ that thing! Let's fight it!'

For a moment, Ripley was worried they'd refuse. Despite their obvious respect for Dillon and the fact that there really wasn't a choice, they'd let their fear get the better of them. 

But then Morse stood. 'Fuck it. Let's go boys!'

As the prisoners gathered around Dillon, Ripley followed Hicks back to the table they'd laid the blueprints out on. He looked up, meeting her gaze properly for the first time since he'd found her in Dillon's cell. 

'Hicks-'

'How long have you known?' he asked suddenly, light eyes pinning her in place. 

She returned his hard gaze with one of her own. ‘Since the fire.’

‘You should have told me,’ he said quietly.

There was something altogether foo soft in his eyes and Ripley looked away. She needed to keep her anger and he was threatening that. After the scan had shown her what she couldn't help but feel she should have known she’d given in to the need for contact, borrowing strength from him even as she gave him some of her own. His quiet confidence was seductive, making her want to believe there was another way this could end. 

But there wasn’t. In what could only be a matter of hours now either the monster would push its way out of her chest or someone would have to kill her. She glanced over at Newt, worry making her bite at the inside of her cheek.

‘I'll take care of her,’ Hicks said, following her gaze.

‘I know.’

‘Pistons are here,’ Dillon said, coming up beside them. He tapped a finger on the blueprint. ‘I’ve sent some of the brothers to get the works warmed up.’

Hicks lifted Newt onto the table, setting her down next to the blueprint. Ripley smiled weakly, remembering he’d done the same when they’d tried to seal themselves in operations. ‘S'like monster maze,’ the girl said quietly, earning herself a nod from Hicks. 

‘That's right, honey,’ the marine murmured, flashing Newt a half-smile. 

In some ways they were very alike, could pass for father and daughter, Ripley mused. Same light eyes, blondish hair. Same propensity for quiet. She looked away, forcing herself to focus on what Dillon was saying.

*

Ripley hit the switch watching as the door slid up into the wall and leaning back as a cloud of dust poured through the opening. She looked over at Dillon. ‘When was the last time you used this place?’

‘We fired it up five, six years ago.’

She raised an eyebrow at Hicks, who shrugged, bringing two wires together until they sparked. 

‘You sure the piston’s gonna work?’ Ripley asked.

There’s nothing for sure in this place,’ Dillon said, watching as Hicks threw the breaker. The leadworks started to hum. ‘We trap it here first. Then you pull the lever, start the piston. Then the piston’s gonna push the motherfucker right into the mould and one of the guys will pour the lead. End of its ass. End of story.’

‘What if somebody screws it up?’

‘We’re fucked,’ Dillon said simply. 

‘We get one shot at this?’ Hicks called over. 

‘We’ll never have time to reset it,’ Dillon said, glancing at the marine before switching his attention back to Ripley. ‘Now remember, when you pull the lever, for a few seconds you’re gonna be trapped in here with that fuckin’ thing.’

Ripley nodded, tugging her gloves on tighter. ‘You guys don’t drop the ball, I won’t.’

Dillon glanced over at Hicks and Newt before stepping closer to Ripley, dropping his voice. ‘You just better be right about that thing not wanting you,’ he said. ‘Because if it wants out that’s how it’s gonna go. Through that alcove, through you.’

Ripley flicked her gaze to Hicks, relieved he didn’t seem to have heard. ‘Where are you gonna be?’ she asked.

‘I’ll be around,’ Dillon said, swinging his axe up onto his shoulder before heading off.

Ripley kept her gaze on the semi-darkness of the corridor ahead, shifting when she felt Hicks move to stand next to her. ‘What do you think our chances are?’ Ripley asked.

The marine gave a noncommittal shrug. ‘I don't know,’ he drawled. ‘It's risky, and we don't know them, don't know who's gonna hold up and who's likely to bolt when the shit hits the fan.’ He shifted uncomfortably, his hand pressing against the bandage on his chest.

‘You alright?’ Ripley asked. 

‘Itches,’ he shrugged. 

‘You want me to loosen it?’ she asked, reaching for him.

He stepped back, keeping himself out of her reach. ‘I’m fine. What about you?’

Ripley dropped her hand to her side, looking away from him to hide the hurt his reaction had induced. ‘Nauseous. Other than that… nothing.’ 

‘Listen, why don't we see if I can get one of the freezers in the EEV working? Stop this thing until they get here.’

‘We don’t have time for that,’ Ripley said, keeping her voice firm.

‘I can't just… _we_ can't just do nothing.’

‘We’re not doing nothing.’ She regarded him a moment. ‘I want you clear of the chase.’

‘What?’ he asked. ‘Ripley-’

‘Stay with Newt,’ Ripley said, turning to face him.

Hicks shook his head. ‘These guys aren’t exactly in great shape, who knows how long they’ll be able to outrun it? You need me in the tunnels. ’ 

‘Don't give me that macho marine bullshit.’

He laughed shortly. ‘Would I ever? We need everyone we got down there.’ 

‘You want me to make it an order, _corporal_?’

He raised an eyebrow at her, straightening as the amusement in his eyes died. ‘You can't give me orders.’ 

‘You were happy to follow my suggestions back at the colony.’ 

‘When they made sense. This doesn't. You should stay up there with the kid, make sure it doesn’t all go to hell.’

Ripley gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I don't know how long I've got. I don't wanna be near Newt when…’ she trailed off, watching as his jaw tensed and he looked away. ‘Besides, it won't kill me, maybe we can use that.’ 

‘Ripley-’ Hicks began, stopping as a scream reached their ears and the jury-rigged perimeter alarm began to wail. Newt barrelled into Ripley’s side. 

‘No time,’ Ripley snapped, prying Newt loose. ‘Get Newt up top, _now._ ’ She watched, gratified as the soldier in him responded to her tone, grabbing the girl and swinging her up so he could carry her. As he turned to leave she reached for him, snagging his sleeve and pulling him back around. She stepped forward and dropped a kiss on Newt’s head. ‘Be careful, baby,’ she murmured, not trusting her voice with much else. Newt reached out and squeezed her hand tightly, her face solemn. 

Ripley met Hicks’ gaze seeing confusion there as she slid her hand behind his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss before shoving him away. ‘ _Go_ ,’ she ordered, turning and sprinting for her alcove as the screams in the tunnels got louder, drowning out the sound of the perimeter alarm and Hicks’ boots.

Minutes ticked by that felt like breathless hours and Dillon rejoined her, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat but his eyes focused. 

At a particularly loud scream, he called out. ‘Morse! Kevin! Gregor!’ When the screams died away and no other response was forthcoming he rolled his eyes. ‘All they had to do was run down a damn corridor.’ He approached Ripley. ‘Stay here,’ he said, turning and heading into the tunnels, axe in hand.

Ripley eyed the prisoner he’d left with her, Eric. The man was particularly nervy, his hands visibly shaking as he tried to look in every direction at once. Ignoring him, Ripley focused on what she could hear, trying to work out how close the alien was. The voices coming from the tunnel were a jumbled mess, shouts intermingling with screams and the booming voice of Dillon, getting slowly further away.

Abruptly Eric screamed and began to run for the piston lever, sobs breaking free from his chest as he stumbled forwards. Ripley swore inwardly, it must have been here and gone.

‘No!’ she yelled, making a run for him and grabbing him just as he reached the lever, yanking him away and shoving him into the wall. ‘It’s gone!’ she snapped, holding him in place until he had some semblance of calm. ‘It’s gone,’ she said again. ‘Okay?’

‘Okay,’ he said.

She held his gaze a moment before letting him go, turning and leaning against the wall as nausea rippled through her, followed by a sharp stab to her sternum.

Dillon’s voice sounded, suddenly close by again. ‘It’s coming!’ he reappeared, dragging one of the prisoners with him, the man - Kevin, she remembered - a bloody, screaming mess.

Ripley slammed her hand into the door control, sealing it behind Dillon and yelling over her shoulder at Eric, ‘Check the piston!’ as she skidded to her knees beside Dillon. 

As the prisoner in his arms died a hiss sounded and Ripley looked up, certainty filling her chest. The alien leaned into the chamber, huge and glistening. ‘Leave him,’ Ripley whispered to Dillon. ‘Leave him, he’s dead.’ She shoved at his arm, backing them both away as the alien made a grab for Kevin’s body dragging it out of the chamber even as Ripley heard the piston start.

‘Shit!’ she yelled, running for the doors. ‘How much time?’

‘Five minutes,’ Dillon said, mirroring her actions on the other side of the chamber. ‘But we gotta get it back in here!’

Ripley stumbled through the corridors, her mind trying to grasp at a direction even as she moved blindly forward, screaming for the prisoners, the alien - _anyone_. When she finally found it the alien was busy tearing into Gregor, seemingly so engrossed that it hadn’t noticed Morse crawling away. She waved the man off, barely sparing him a look as she stepped forwards and raised her torch, trying to get the alien’s attention. ‘Come on you bastard! Come on!’

It seemed hellbent on staying away from her and she was surprised to realise some distant part of her was still capable of being amused at that. All this time and now she _wanted_ it to chase her and it wouldn’t. She made a grab for its tail, pulling on it even as her gloves threatened to slip free. ‘It’s here!’ she yelled. ‘It’s here!’

Something slammed into her, grabbing her around the waist. She craned her neck to look over her shoulder enough to see it was Hicks, the marine using her loss of balance to haul her backwards. She barely had time to wonder at his presence before the alien’s huge head snapped up, lips drawing back over its inner jaw as it hissed, excited at its new prey.

‘Yes!’ Ripley screamed, watching in relief as it surged towards them. ‘It’s working! To the piston!’

As Ripley and Hicks made it to the piston chamber The alien slowed its pursuit, obviously confused by her presence, stopping long enough to sense Morse behind the only remaining open door.

‘Morse!’ Dillon screamed. ‘Shut the door! Morse!’

Ripley sagged against Hicks in relief as the door slid down, finally leaving the alien only one way to go. They backed into the inner mould and she shoved Dillon and Hicks behind her, putting herself between them and the alien as she heard Morse shout something, his words lost in the noise of her own blood rushing through her head. 

‘Climb,’ she said, throwing the word over her shoulder as she kept her eyes on the advancing alien. ‘Now!’

‘What about you?’ Dillon asked at her shoulder. 

‘I’m staying.’

‘Bullshit. There’s gonna be ten tons of hot lead in here!’

‘I’m telling you I wanna die!’ Ripley snapped. 

Dillon grabbed her, yanking her backwards. ‘We got a deal. It dies first, _then_ you.’

‘Hicks?’ Ripley said, shooting the marine a desperate look. 

‘Climb,’ he ordered, holding her gaze until she realised he wasn’t going to climb until she did. 

Cursing them both, she grabbed at the walls of the mould, hauling herself upwards. Below her she heard Hicks and Dillon start climbing, Dillon drawing level with her quickly as Hicks brought up the rear.

‘Fuck,’ Hicks said, just loud enough to be heard over the hissing of the piston.

‘What?’ she asked, trying desperately to look down at him. 

‘It’s following us. Keep going,’ he ordered, dropping back down into the mould.

Ripley leaned back, looking past Dillon as the alien dropped back down too, drawing itself up as it regarded Hicks almost curiously. ‘Hicks get back up here, goddamn it!’

Below her, the marine shook his head. ‘I gotta keep it here.’ 

‘No,’ she said, the word almost a sob. 

‘Ripley,’ Hicks said warningly. ‘Get outta here.’ He held himself still, his eyes on the alien, watching as it followed his movements. 

Ripley couldn’t move and found herself staring down at him. If she dropped back down now would it stop? There was no space for it to get around her if she stood between them. Faced with the choice it would follow Dillon up out of the mould and this would all be for nothing. 

Finally, the alien seemed to have made up its mind, was tensed to dart forwards, when suddenly Dillon dropped down in front of Hicks. 

Hicks grabbed the other man’s shoulder. ‘The hell are you-’

‘Go, man,’ Dillon said, his voice oddly calm. ‘I'll hold it here.’

Hicks nodded and flung himself at the wall, dragging himself upwards until he was just below.

‘Dillon!’ Ripley yelled, reaching towards the man.

‘I’ve gotta hold it here. You two go.’

‘What about me?’ Ripley asked. ‘We had a deal!’

‘God will take care of you now sister. Or he will,’ he nodded at Hicks before returning his attention to the alien. ‘Pour the lead.’

Hicks shoved at her. ‘Go!’ he ordered, his expression making it plain he wasn’t going to climb unless she did. 

She scrambled upwards her lungs burning as her arms felt as though they were being yanked out of their sockets. As they reached the top and hauled themselves clear she screamed for Morse. ‘Pour the lead! Pour it!’

Hicks pressed her backwards as the lead rained down, the heat immense even at this distance. Before she could process what was happening a scream came from below and the platform shook. 

‘What the fuck?’ Hicks demanded, staring down as the alien began to climb towards them., Ripley grabbed his sleeve and yanked him forwards, dragging him towards the chains that dangled overhead. She grabbed hold and started to climb, the chains still hot through her gloves. 

‘Ripley!’ Morse yelled. ‘It’s burning hot! Hit the sprinkler! Douse the fucker!’

Staring madly around, Ripley spotted the sprinkler control just out of reach. Hicks followed her line of sight and laced his fingers together, motioning for Ripley to step into his hands and boosting her so she could scramble onto the platform level with the sprinkler control. She took a running jump, catching the chain that controlled the sprinkler system and using her weight to trip it. 

Water cascaded from the ceiling, soaking everything and raining down hard on the alien. As she watched, fissures appeared in the smooth flesh of its head. The alien screamed before the difference in temperature became too much. It exploded, yellow acid harmlessly washed away by the powerful sprinkler. 

Hicks climbed up to meet her as Morse brought the control platform around, Ripley and Hicks swinging themselves onto it when it reached the extent of its journey. Ripley fell to her knees spluttering water onto the platform and yanking her arms free of her waterlogged jacket as she fought for breath.

As Morse docked the platform, Hicks helped her to her feet. She shrugged him off, glaring. ‘What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Newt?’

‘She’s safe,’ Hicks said. ‘Ripley-’

‘Good work, Corporal Hicks.’

At the sound of the voice she didn’t recognise Ripley spun. The speaker was in a full hazmat suit, flanked by six similarly attired people and accompanied by Aaron. As they moved closer, Ripley backed away, raising her hands. ‘Don’t come any closer. Stay where you are!’ She looked over at Hicks. ‘What the fuck is this?’

‘Ripley,’ a familiar voice called, his tone soft. She swung her attention back to the advancing group feeling confusion mount in her pounding head as Bishop detached himself from the others, stepping forwards. ‘I’m here to help you. We can get that thing out of you’

Ripley shook her head at the impossible face, her hand moving unconsciously to her chest. ‘No more bullshit. I just felt it move.’

‘Do you know who I am?’ Bishop asked, stepping forward slowly. 

‘You’re a droid, same model as Bishop.’

He smiled, shaking his head. ‘I’m not the Bishop android. I designed it and I’m very human. The company sent me here to show you a friendly face. To demonstrate how important you are to us. To me.’

‘You just wanna take it back,’ Ripley said, 

‘We want to kill it and take you home,’ Bishop said, his voice taking on a stern tone.

‘Bullshit,’ Ripley snapped. 

‘You’re wrong. We want to help.’

Ripley faltered, the softness of his voice, the familiar face starting to get to her. Beside her, she felt Hicks shift slightly. She glanced over at him but his expression was unreadable. ‘You don’t wanna take it back?’ she asked, turning her attention back to Bishop. 

‘Ripley, time is a factor here. We’ve got a surgical base set up on the rescue ship.’

The last of the adrenaline leached out of her brain, leaving only exhaustion. It must have shown on her face because Bishop stepped forwards again, the largest step he’d dared take yet. ‘You can still have a life… children. And most importantly, you'll know it’s dead. Let me help you.’

Ripley regarded him a moment, stepping back slightly and feeling the deck below her give as she made it back onto the control platform. ‘No,’ she said, sliding the gate closed. 

Bishop was shoved aside as one of his hazmat-wearing colleagues pushed forward. ‘Corporal Hicks, I order you to stop that woman.’

Ripley spun, glaring at the marine. ‘Don’t you dare!’ 

The man giving the orders pressed forward again. ‘You are under orders, corporal.’ 

Hicks didn’t acknowledge the other man, keeping his eyes on Ripley. ‘Ellen,’ he said softly. ‘Trust me?’ 

Ripley kept her eyes on him as she addressed Morse. ‘Morse! Get us away.’ 

As the platform began to move again Hicks reached for her and she shoved him, watching in fury as he reeled backwards. The recovery team raised their weapons, one of them firing off a shot and hitting Morse in the leg. 

‘Hold your fire!’ Hicks yelled, raising his hands.

‘You promised me you'd kill me if this happened. You _promised_!’ she spat, trying to wrench her arm free.

‘If it came to it,’ he said softly. ‘We ain’t there yet.’ 

‘Not there?’ She laughed, the sound almost a sob. ‘Did you not hear me before? I just felt it _move_ , Hicks.’ 

Too late, she realised she'd let him get too close. He moved fast and she felt a needle slide into the skin at her neck and shoved him away again, already feeling her legs lose their tension. Her last memory was the sound of a struggle, Aaron screaming bloody defiance, and Hicks catching her and lifting her as the deck came up to meet her.


	8. Epilogue - Fury

Ripley opened her eyes, blinking when the bright light made them water. Her brain felt full of dense fog, dreams blending with memories she wasn’t sure she owned. She tried to swallow but her throat was too dry and she coughed instead. As her lungs expanded, pain blossomed through her and she raised a hand to her chest, pushing down the habitual panic she felt on waking. 

‘Careful. Hicks said I should give you this,’ Newt said, appearing in Ripley’s field of vision and holding out a canteen. ‘Lower lights,’ she said, aiming her voice to the ceiling.

As the lights dimmed to a more tolerable level, Ripley drank from the canteen, pulling a face at the brackish taste of the painkiller in the water. Turning her head, she saw she was in a medbay - far too sophisticated to be part of anywhere she’d been recently apart from maybe Gateway. But this couldn’t be the station she thought, trying to make sense of the fog; Newt hadn’t been on Gateway. And suddenly there it was, her memory of the last few days reasserting itself even as the pain in her chest began to make sense. Despite the pain, she bolted upright, raising her hand and yanking the neck of her surgical gown outward, revealing a thin scar, already well on the way to healing. 

‘It’s gone,’ Newt said quietly. 

‘No,’ Ripley said, shaking her head. ‘Where is it?’

‘It’s dead,’ Newt said solemnly. ‘We’re safe.’ She reached up and looped her arms around Ripley in a hug. 

Ripley found herself returning the hug automatically, running a hand down the girl’s back in a comforting gesture and smiling as Newt copied her. ‘Newt,’ she asked, leaning back so she could meet the girl’s eyes. ‘Where are we?’ 

‘’s called the _Patna_ , but Hicks says I can give it a new name if I want.’

‘It’s a ship?’

Newt nodded. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had one inside of you?’ she asked suddenly, pulling back entirely. She’d found new clothes, Ripley realised, taking in the too-large t-shirt and rolled up sweatpants. At least they were clean. 

‘I’m sorry, Newt.’

‘It’s wrong to tell lies.’

‘I know, honey.’

‘Don’t do it again,’ Newt said sternly. 

Ripley smiled softly. ‘Of course not, Newt. I promise. You must have been worried.’

Newt shook her head. ‘Hicks and me snuck onto this ship and then onto a little ship. I had to hide there while he helped you so I’d be safe.’

‘Hicks put you in an EEV?’ Ripley asked sharply, feeling her anger at the marine rising again as the fog in her head began to clear.

Newt cocked her head to the side curiously. ‘What's an EEV?’

‘Emergency escape vehicle.’

Newt shrugged, the gesture reminiscent of the absent marine. ‘He said I had to be brave,’ she said. 

‘He put you in there by yourself?’ Newt shook her head, frowning in apparent defence of Hicks. ‘Then what?’

‘I was there.’

Ripley turned, eyes lighting on a chair in the corner of the medbay. ‘Bishop?’ Because it could only be Bishop; the man propped in the chair had no legs, his lower half covered by a blanket. ‘Thought you were offline.’

‘Corporal Hicks brought me back online,’ Bishop said. 

Ripley looked pointedly around the medbay, noting there was no trace of the man in question. ‘And just why did Corporal Hicks need you?’ 

Bishop offered her a small soothing smile in recognition of the ice in her tone. ‘To take care of Rebecca if things didn’t work out here.’ Newt pulled a face at Bishop using her real name. ‘The escape vehicles on this ship are higher spec than those on the _Sulaco_ ,’ the synthetic continued. ‘They can be piloted.’

‘And he needed _you_ to do that? What was he planning on doing?’

Bishop looked away, uncomfortable. ‘Perhaps you should ask him that.’ 

‘Right,’ Ripley said grimly, glancing around. A grey jumpsuit and t-shirt were folded over the foot of her cot. Steeling herself, she swung her legs over the side, standing gingerly and swaying slightly as blood rushed to her head. When the room stopped spinning she pulled the clothes on, shoving her feet into the sneakers Newt handed her.

‘I'm not sure now is-’ Bishop began.

Ripley cut him off. ‘Where is he, Newt?’

‘The bit with all the lights.’ 

Ripley shot a look at Bishop. ‘On the bridge,’ he supplied, affecting a shrug. 

‘I can show you,’ Newt offered, holding out a hand.

‘No, honey, you stay with Bishop.’ A thought occurred and she looked at the synthetic. ‘Who else is on board?’

‘Just us. Corporal Hicks thought the remaining company reps would be more... comfortable waiting for the next transport.’ 

*

As she made her way through the ship Ripley felt her anger warring with the cooler, more logical side of her brain as she tried to piece together what had happened. The alien was gone. Her chest felt… lighter, clearer. And Newt had seemed certain it was dead; there was no way the girl would be on the ship if she hadn’t been assured of that in some way. She was too smart for that. 

She had no idea how long she’d been out. The scar was healing but couldn't know if that was down to time or advanced surgical practices. It wasn’t a huge ship, she realised, but it was in better condition than any she’d been on, much newer than the _Sulaco_ had been. The schematic she’d glanced at to find the bridge had shown weapons storage and enough freezers to transport a company. So some kind of… troop transport?

When Ripley reached the bridge she was struck by deja vu, forcibly reminded of when she’d sought Hicks out on the _Sulaco_. The marine was sitting in the first officer’s seat, boots up on the console, staring down at something in his hands. Unlike Newt he hadn’t cleaned up, was still wearing the clothes he’d been given on Fury. As she drew closer she could see he looked exhausted, as though he’d not slept in weeks. Her anger drained slightly and she found herself again wondering how long she’d been unconscious. She walked softly onto the bridge, dropping into the seat next to the marine and staring out of the viewscreen. 

‘Where are we headed?’ she asked quietly, realising he wasn’t going to speak. 

‘Guess that’s on you,’ he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, ‘ _Lieutenant_.’

‘On me?’ she asked. The object in his hands made a metallic sound and she focused in on it. Dog tags. Ripley reached out and took them from his unresisting fingers. Turning the tags over, she saw what she’d expected to see. 

**HICKS**   
**D. A POS**   
**A27/TQ4.0.48215E9**   
**USCM**   
**NO PREFERENCE**

‘Surprised they don’t microchip you guys,’ she said.

‘They do,’ he said, raising his left arm so she could see the new bandage wrapped around his wrist.

‘We’re not going back?’ she said, eyeing him. 

‘Can’t,’ he said quietly. ‘ _I_ can’t, leastways.’

‘Why not?’

He shot her a look filled with wry amusement before dropping his eyes again. ‘You kidding? I stranded their recovery team, killed their pet bug and stole their goddamn ship.’

‘Yes,’ Ripley said carefully. ‘You did. How exactly did you do that again?’

He shrugged, reaching over and snagging his dog tags, still resolutely avoiding her eyes as his fingers brushed hers gently. 

She cocked her head to one side inquisitively but he wouldn’t look at her, instead focusing his attention on his tags again. Ripley found her eyes tracking over him, taking in the shadows under his shuttered eyes and the stubble lining his jaw. The angle of his face hid his acid scars combining with the shy cast to his expression and making him look suddenly young; younger than she'd felt since waking up on Gateway. 

He glanced up finally, the exhaustion in his eyes serving to dispel the boyish look. ‘What?’ he asked softly. 

There was something else in his eyes too, Ripley thought, surprised when she realised it was guilt. ‘Tell me what happened,’ she said, the order plain despite the quiet in her voice.

Hicks dropped his gaze to his hands again. ‘Aaron told them,’ he said. ‘About-’ he waved a hand obliquely at her chest. ‘While we were trying to kill it he contacted this ship and fucking _told_ them.’ He paused, flexing his fingers slightly. ‘They landed when you sent me up top so you could play tag with the bug. Aaron took them inside, I hid the kid on the dropship. Came back to get you.’

When it became apparent he thought he was done Ripley rolled her eyes. ‘And the rest?’

He shifted in his seat. ‘They found me just outside the leadworks. Gave me a sedative and orders to take you down unharmed.’

‘Orders you seemed to have no problem complying with,’ Ripley remembered, her anger surging up her oesophagus again, burning the back of her throat. She crossed her arms over her chest in an effort to hold it at bay.

‘I had to get you on the ship. Figured you’d have a better chance here than in the leadworks.’

‘You couldn’t have known they’d be able to remove it without killing me,’ Ripley said, inwardly impressed at her own ability to keep her voice level.

He looked up at her suddenly, determination clear in the steadiness of his gaze. ‘Worth a shot.’

Ripley laughed mirthlessly. ‘ _Worth a shot_?’ she repeated incredulously. When he simply held her eyes she sighed. ‘So you put Newt in an EEV, rebooted Bishop and brought me on board against my will. What else?’

‘Found the armoury,’ Hicks said, nodding towards his feet. For the first time, Ripley noticed the pulse rifle leaning against the console, the weapon looking almost untidy as though Hicks had dropped it when he sat. It wasn’t like him, Ripley mused, remembering the care the marine had taken with his weaponry. ‘Took out most of them easy enough, tossed ‘em into the freezers on the secondary EEV while the surgeons cut it outta you.’

‘And they just did that because you asked nicely?’ Ripley asked sceptically. 

Hicks huffed his amusement at that. ‘Not exactly,’ he murmured.

‘How did you persuade them?’

‘Set the self-destruct,’ Hicks added, dropping the words almost casually.

Ripley stood, pacing. ‘You were gonna blow the ship,’ she realised. ‘If they couldn’t get it out - if they _kept_ it - you were going to let the ship self-destruct.’ She stilled, leaning against the console. ‘How could you know they’d do it? You’d have to stay in medical…’

‘Only way to be sure,’ Hicks murmured, shifting his gaze to the deck. 

Ripley stared at him. ‘You had no way off. You were going to get Newt away and you were going to stay.’ 

‘Promised the kid I’d keep you safe,’ he said. 

‘ _Hicks_.’

‘Couldn't blow it remotely. They'd shut it down.’ 

She found herself marvelling at his tenacity. Hicks held on tightly to what he had - his team, his temper, _her_ . She’d never quite gotten the trick of holding on to anyone. It was part of what had made her drag him onto the dropship after he’d been sprayed with alien blood, had driven her into the depths of the processing plant on LV-426 to find Newt - the need to prove she could keep hold of _someone_. But really the only thing she’d been reliably able to hold onto was her own life, winding it long through time and stars until she'd been almost relieved to give it up. 

But this man - this stubborn soldier who barely knew her - wouldn’t let her.

She cleared her throat. ‘It was risky.’

‘I ain’t sorry,’ he said, leaning forward and tapping a few keys. 

‘Good,’ Ripley said, ducking her head to hide her smile. 

‘I had Bishop kill the ident on this ship,’ he said, still not looking at her. ‘You can drop me off and take it anywhere. You and Newt’ll be safe.’

Ripley cocked her head to the side. ‘Drop you off? You got somewhere to be, Corporal?’

Seemingly in answer, he tapped a few keys on his console. ‘Found this,’ he said.

As Ripley shifted her attention her own voice came from the speakers, her tone sharp. _‘... just drop sharply while I was away? Ma'am, I already said it was not indigenous, it was a derelict spacecraft, an alien ship. It was not from there. Do you get it? We homed in-_ ’

Hicks hit a key, killing the recording and filling the viewscreen with scrolling text. ‘You said it yourself, Ripley,’ he said, sitting back and propping his boots on the console again. ‘It wasn't from 426. It’s all here,’ he waved at the screen. ‘All their intel.’

Ripley saw it all laid bare. Special order 937 _,_ Burke's messages to Hadley's Hope and more, possible leads on other worlds where the alien might exist, might have come from. 

As the text faded, Ripley regarded Hicks in silence for a moment. Making up her mind, she turned and began keying commands into her own console. ‘Ship’s got full combat capabilities,’ she noted. ‘As well as advanced medical facilities.’ She turned to face the marine again. ‘Where first?’ 

Hicks looked up at her from under his lashes. ‘What?’

‘You need a ship,’ she said, smirking. ‘And a pilot.’ 

The marine shook his head. ‘I can’t let you come with me, Ellen.’

‘I don’t recall asking your permission, Corporal.’

‘Doesn’t matter. You deserve a life away from this thing. Both of you. I got nothin’ better to do.’

Looking down at him, Ripley realised she’d still subconsciously been thinking of him as part of something bigger, the military-industrial complex enveloping him even here. But he was alone, she thought suddenly, every bit as much as she was and every bit as much as Newt was. 

Slowly, she moved until she was standing in front of him, tapping his legs and waiting for him to drop his boots to the deck before pulling him to his feet. The skin grafts on his face were taking, she saw, the new skin shiny and taught. He'd always be scarred. 

Reaching up, she ran her fingers lightly over the marks, watching his eyes fall closed, the expression on his face pitched somewhere perfectly between pain and relief. 

‘It's marked us both,’ she said softly, taking his hand and laying it against her sternum. ‘We owe it. So if you're going, we're going with you.’ At his look of annoyance, she grinned. ‘You’re going to find them and wipe them out and you thought I'd sit it out? That Newt would? Besides, you won't last five minutes without us. You need us, Hicks. You need _me_. I’m good at killing this thing,’ she shrugged. 

Finally, he looked as though really seeing her, his mouth twitching into the half-smile she found she’d grown inordinately fond of. ‘Yeah,’ he murmured, his hands coming up to circle her waist and pulling her forward until her hips were flush against his. ‘I noticed.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who read this, left a review or left kudos. It's been super therapeutic to write and I hope you all like how it ended.


End file.
